We all have a story 'So Far' and a story 'Not Yet'

And there are moments that intersect the two

I am trying to capture this intersection with this drawing, but you can interpret it any way you like, and I hope you do.

It is my 'Not Yet' story, me as an old man, but also the 'So Far' story of my grandfather, Edgar Taplin, my Mum's dad, having just visited the RSL.

His grandchildren called him Puppy.

He and I were close. He would laugh freely at my kid jokes, and I liked it when people said we were similar, commenting on our looks and mannerisms.

My memories of Puppy are a caring, purposeful, smiling yet slightly taciturn man who taught me how to draw, mostly on big sheets of butcher paper with the thick oily tradie pencils from his outdoor workshop. He showed me how to draw horses. He was patient and generous with his praise. I felt good being with him.

He is probably the reason I studied art. I found something I enjoyed, he showed me how to do it better, and his compliments encouraged me.

He would buy Neapolitan ice cream. My older sister Jennie would get the chocolate, me the strawberry, and my younger Brendan the vanilla in order of our ages. The middle child got the middle flavour.

Puppy served in the air force, the RAAF in WWII. He wasn't a flyer but a courier who rode a motorbike, delivering messages between the lines. We only know his function because there are photos that survive him.

Mum did not meet her dad until he returned from war, and she wondered who the strange man in the house was. The war was the backdrop to her childhood and remained an omnipresent yet unspoken part of her growing years.

I was fascinated by his RAAF cap, which I found one day when digging through some old stuff in a spare room at his home. While he would reluctantly place it on my young head when I badgered him, he refused to put it on his own, and I wondered why.

I learned later he didn't march on ANZAC Day, but was a regular at the RSL, putting on his only suit for the occasion.

I was gifted Puppy's RAAF cap in my teens after he died suddenly from a stroke.

I treasure the cap.

But what I think of most is “We still had talking to do”, the name of this drawing.