Grandpa

Today for me was a day spent reflecting and remembering. Remembering the good times. It is the 6th anniversary of my Grandpa’s death. A sad day but also lots of memories which made me smile whether it was walking up Corstorphine Hill in companionable silence only to be questioned by my Granny when we got back who wanted to know what we talked about. She could never believe that we often didnt say much. I also remember the times where we would wind my granny up about her soup and little things.

He was always there for me, he and Granny would take me back to school when Mum or Dad couldn’t, and he would always write to me with some pennies for ice cream when I was at school. One memory I remember so clearly was when my Uncle died, Uncle Dermot was brought back to Dovecot Road and spent his last night at home with Granny and Grandpa. I didnt go to the funeral but the day before we went round to Granny and Grandpa’s to say goodbye. The dining room had been cleared and Dermot’s coffin was there standing proudly in the middle of the room. I remember Grandpa standing next to me saying ‘its ok lass’ and we put our hands on his coffin to say goodbye.

He was a remarkable man, a man of few words sometimes but I will never forget him. Towards the end of his life he was in and out the hospital a fair bit. At the age of 90 he under went triple heart bypass but the night before his operation when I visited him he had written a poem (on the the back of his physio exercises!).

I have now deciphered his writing and typed up his poetry and will post it here.

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