Hairy arms

I have a saying ..."that not all females are women" and it is also true on the other side of the coin that "not all males are men". When i was a child i had a belief that has affected my whole life. I used to believe that if a male had hairy arms that he was a man. A very simple and innocent understanding of what i have later found out not to be true. During my early years i lived in a land filled with giants, in fact, anyone over 2ft was a giant through my eyes. But there was this giant that was different than any of the others, he had hairy arms, and in my eyes that made him bigger than any other person in the world because that meant he was a man. A real true full sized hairy armed man and he was my grandfather . I felt he was all mine, not anybody else's just mine, put on this earth just for me, but that was one of his many qualities, he made people feel special, he was my very own personalised man giant. My grandad was the only person i knew who could peel an orange in 2 complete halves. The only person i knew who could peel an apple and the skin would fall to the floor in a carefully carved spiral shape. He was the only person i knew that when i sat on his lap i was in the safest place in the world. This mighty creation of a man was filled with so much love for his family, that is was like an umbrella in a rainstorm, his love protected everyone. My grandfather was like an umbrella made from the finest of designs, the strongest of materials and the most adaptable for any situation. His presence created a calmness, people respected him, family members loved him and me.....he was my hero. Larger than life itself and with a never ending supply of love, wisdom, compassion and understanding, let alone hairy arms, all topped off with a smile that could melt even the toughest of hearts. My grandfather certainly protected me from the rainstorm of that time. but he died when i was young. But even now, sometimes...sometimes i can smell him and i am instantly transported back into the shadow of his greatness and once again the feeling of safety and being "home" overwhelmes me. I love you and i miss you, you are my hero.

The years passed and troubles came and went and more came. Various moves from town to town and even country to country were taken by this traveling boy. Eventually i rented a room on a farm in a quiet country town on the south west coast of england and it was there that i experienced "a man" again. This giant looked like Moses, as much as i can imagine that Moses would look like, i mean, he was big, a white beard, big hands and eyes that you would just fall in love with. So clear and blue that projected kindness beyond my so-called logical thinking. A man who would give all of himself for others, a man who was a pillar of righteousness amongst those who knew him. A man whose grandchildren saw him as a mighty giant as i did and still do. After living with him and his wife for a few months i had the opportunity to buy a new car, so i brought the one i wanted, a black convertable landrover freelander with bull bars and extra spot lights. Upon arrival back at the farm this bearded pillar came running out and was so excited to try and figure out how to take the roof off with me, not for me, but with me as a team. While i lived in this mans presence amazing things happened to me. I changed, my personality changed and i put it all down to him because he did one thing for me....he loved me, i mean he really... really... really... loved me for all of my good and bad parts and considered me his 4th son. Affectionately he gave my car a nickname, it was a country thing to do to name the vehicles, every family member had their car or truck named. My jet black 4x4 was called "try hard" because although it was a landrover, it was a small landrover which was trying hard to be a big one.

So to be in the presence of "2 real men," lets just say that it has been an incredible emotional journey for me. But there is another "man" in my life, one who is younger than me but yet so much bigger. Not big in bone structure but big in spirit. Alot like David of Israel as i could imagine, tending his sheep and goats protecting them from the wolves and bears of the day. A mighty man. This tiny giant has gone through trial after trial and still holds his head up high. He puts others before himself whatever the cost. He encourages even when he cant encourage himself, he loves even though others see nothing to love and he supports even if the entire weight is on his shoulders. Even though i am taller,i look up to this incredible man and so grateful that he is in my life.

I have been very honoured to be in the presence of 3 mighty men and for the influence and input they have each had into my life. 3 completely different people, 3 completely different ages, 3 completely different perspectives of what i call "A MAN"

I am reminded of a beautiful quote from one of my favourite films, "Waking Ned Devine" the scene is this....a couple of elderly friends have lied about a lottery after finding the winning ticket in a dead mans hand. Through pretending to be the dead man and after interviews, the man from the lotto is happy to return with the cheque for 6 million pounds. The finishing line of claiming their victory is very close but at the funeral of the dead man, the man from the lotto appears at the little village church. All hopes are dashed and despair fills the air, for all the local residents have agreed with the fraudsters and their lie for a portion of the winnings. After a few awkward silent moments, the friend speaking changed the name of the deceased and looked at his friend and said this......

"Michael O'Sullivan ...was my great friend, but i don't ever remember telling him that. The words that are spoken at a funeral are spoken to late for the man that is dead. What a wonderful thing it would be to visit your own funeral, to sit at the front and hear what was said....maybe to say a few things yourself. Michael and i grew old together but there were times when we laughed we grew younger. If he was here now, if he could hear what i say, i would congratulate him on being a great man and thank him for being a friend"

As i sit here and see that i too have hairy arms, i now have a new belief, that it is not hairy arms that make a man - but it is what is inside him that really makes one. I have a lot to learn and i don't know if i can ever become one, but just like my old car.......... i will try hard.


© Travelling Boy content belongs to Philip D Norris