Yes, he had to have the open air, a path to follow, space to grow in, it is why he loved to sail over the ocean, and from the time he was a baby was a dreamer out of windows.
“Windows were there to make dust beams and reflect rainbows”. Godfrey told me a memory of crawling chasing rainbows, catching dust. He said, “my Grandpa, what of him I recall, he was tall and spoke rarely, he stood me on his shoulders, to feel a stained glass window he purloined from somewhere, “Their cottage was of light and laughter to me, full of wonderful things I could touch that Grandpa brought home from a lifetime spent at sea. A great wad of seaweed hung on the door, to predict the weather I was told, folks do not do that any more.
…He was an odd little boy who disliked beets, He spent his school days, a dreamer out the window, out across the sport fields train tracks crossed an iron bridge, beyond that hills of stone, and a ridge that beckoned him to roam. Far from hard bogery seats, and daily torment of beets. But for the odd fact that all his school work rhymed, Godfrey could well be labeled dim, (in the language of his times). This is what our senior history teacher said of him- “Godfrey has elevated being idle to high art” The essay I assigned him to write on “Mussolini” was handed in on time. I even had him read it to the group, His essay was a classic, detailed recipe for Mussel Soup…”His attention span is equal to that of a potted plant”, was said of Godfrey and I know,all he wanted in life was over the horizon, down the cow track, round the bend, never hemmed out or told where not to go. He was a full on, nefarious, unrepentant, voluptuary, often silly, rich in rags, vagabond to be
..A dreamer of words out the window. He climbed out the classroom window, you may know it by heart, that first truly warm spring day. Walk home whistling in shirtsleeves, dragging your jacket in the muddy grass. Just passed the April trickery of waking up to snow. He could take no more, and Godfrey fled from class out the window. It hurt when he leaped, it was the second floor. Twas his French teacher, Mr O’Hara, who prefered sleep over work, face flat on his desk, deep in snore. He left a note under teacher’s cup of suspicious medicinal tea, “Thank you O’Hara for teaching me, the past participle of the verb “Avoir” I’m sure it will come in handy, farewell from Godfrey”.
Yes, I Beatrice was there as you well know, I was the last pupil to go. Put on my hat and coat, went down the hall to report that our teacher was again passed out. I watched a distant blur of plaid, running cross the field to meet the train, he was a dreamer out the window, he never returned to school again. …And the 40th wisdom of Godfrey states- Step boldly, leap through life’s window. For I have learned in seeking wisdom, it more oft found me. At times and in places I had to face my fears to go..step boldly through life’s window. From Godfrey.