There exists, somewhere, a photograph of my grandparents (on my father’s side) on their wedding day. It’s a fairly grainy black and white shot but I remember scanning it in. Grandad’s in uniform, Grandma’s in a fairly simple dress. I cannot, for the life of me, find this photo. I know it’s on the computer somewhere, or it was before the last round of updates/reinstalls.
My kids have a far better relationship with their grandparents than I did with mine. On my mother’s side, my grandfather died when I was 10, my grandmother a few years later after a long battle with Parkinson’s. On my father’s side, they seemed more or less indestructible! Both Grandma and Grandad got to meet all but the very last of their great-grandchildren. Grandad seemed to get a new lease of life, for a while, after Grandma died, but as of last year that all came to an end as well. Still, they were great people to be with.
Grandma taught me to play Rummy and Scrabble, but never let me win at either. She was a queen of those nasty little 2 or 3 letter words that no-one ever used but would turn out to be obscure knitting terms when I challenged them. She was also one of the few people who managed to get the bonus for using all your letters at once. On the first go. Let’s face it, I was never going to win that game. I would spend a few days staying with them in their house near Bradford during the summer holidays, taking the bus into Leeds or Bradford to explore and generally kill time. Happy days. Grandad made me a fort/castle when I was a kid – I still remember how it went together and I’m determined to build one for my kids this summer – see the Listography post coming up shortly!
Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, my (late) grandad.
I’m off hunting for photos now, try and find some of my Grandma. They must be there somewhere.