So earlier this week I published a post entitled 11.11.11 before properly reading the theme so now I’m having a second go and publishing a photograph that I took today.
This is my Nanna and Grandad who both are sadly no longer with us. I spent the first 11 years of my life living at home with my Mum, my Nanna and my Grandad until my Nanna became very poorly and passed away. I never forget a thing, to this day I can still remember what everyone was wearing the day my Nanna passed, I still remember the conversations I had with people from our local community who wanted to pass on their respects. It was a really hard time for our family and particularly so for my Grandad.
My Grandad lived on for another 10 years after my Nanna was gone, he met a new partner and moved away to live with her but still we had a very close bond. Having grown up without a father myself, my Grandad was the most important man in my world. He was my father-figure and I missed him so much when he moved away. Gone were the days of walking home from school in my lunch hour to have dinner with Grandad and then sniggering to myself as he was lay on the floor of the lounge for a cat-nap after lunch before returning to work – I would always wake him up by squeezing his nose and holding his mouth shut (well I thought it was funny!).
My Grandad was diagnosed with cancer and deteriorated very quickly, within months he had passed away too and that day my heart broke into a thousand pieces. I received the phone call from my Mum very early one morning, she and her sisters had been with my Grandad at the end. I had chosen not to go, I wanted to remember my Grandad as the big strong man in my life, not the frail man the cancer had left behind. I’m crying as I write this post – I wish he was still here, he would have loved to dance with me at my wedding, to see my children grow but that was not to be.
My Grandad did not fight in the first world war, he wasn’t old enough but he did fight in the second and he fought with pride for his country and always wore a poppy for Rememberance Day, he always had stories to tell of the friends that he lost, the friends that had fought beside him and I am so proud of my grandparents, of Hubby’s Grandparents and for everyone else’s Grandparents who have fought in the past for our country, for our right to survive. For all of those people who had been fighting a war that is not our own in recent years, the ones that have lost their lives, their limbs and their loved ones. In the works of the beauty queens, I do hope for World Peace one day but who are we kidding.
Little Bean made this poppy at pre-school this week and I explained to her what the poppy represented. Today she sat beside me at 11am and stayed silent for 2 minutes with me – I don’t think she fully understood but that is the first time that I have asked her to be quiet for a period of time and she has done it.
The photograph of my Grandad was taken in Palestine during the Second World War, he worked in the Bomb Disposal Squad and the photograph of my Nanna as you can see was taken outside No. 5 Camp in Well near Alford in Lincolnshire where I grew up. The remains of the army camp are still there today. My Nanna and Grandad met because my Grandad was posted to Well from his home in Wales and it is because of that posting that I and my family are here today, for that I am thankful and so honoured to call them my Grandparents.