Dear Grandad

Dear Grandad,

Tomorrow it will be a year since you passed away. Wow, how the time flies.

So much has happened in the last year. I’ve finished my degree with a 2:1! I went to Tenerife with uni in January, wish I could show you the pictures. You would have loved it there, we saw some incredible flowers.

Mum and Dad aren’t together any more, when Nanny was told she said that you would have been so pleased to hear that because you always thought that Mum deserved far better than your son. So I’m writing it here. You know, just so you know.

I’ve cut my hair really short, I bet that’s a surprise! I wonder what you’d think of it. I’m looking for jobs at the moment, trying to be an adult. But I’m thinking about the advice you always gave us which was to put your happiness first. I’m going to go to visit my friends in February/March in Australia and New Zealand. I’m going to travel by train around Europe with a friend at some point but haven’t got any proper plans yet. In the meantime, I’m saving up and working as much as possible at my current job.

You missed a pretty miserable summer and this year looks like it’s going to be the same. It rained at your funeral but cleared up for the wake. There’s something poetic about that I think. Your funeral was beautiful, everyone cried. You had, and have, so many people who love you. I want to be like you when I grow up. I want to be as caring, as funny, as in love with nature. I love that you chose “Always look on the bright side of life” as the closing song of the ceremony. It was a very You thing to do, trying to cheer everyone up. All of us got lost on the way to the wake, you would have found that hilarious.

It was weird sitting in your chair. Did you ever think of it as your chair? It was pretty comfortable though, I see why you liked it. I wanted to touch the windchimes hanging from the hall light as I came into your house, how I always used to even when I was tiny and you had to lift me up, but the light had changed and the chimes were gone. I missed that.

We saw a red squirrel run across your lawn on the day of your funeral, but didn’t see any in the woods. We went there with Andy and his kids and they went running about. You would have loved them, they would have loved you. On second thought, maybe that’s why we didn’t see any squirrels.

When Dad and Katie went to visit you because you were deteriorating quickly I wanted to come with them, I really did. I just didn’t want to see you like that. I changed my mind and I was going to come to see you the weekend after with mum, but you didn’t make it. I’m so sorry. I hope you understand. I think of you every time I see a British Heart Foundation sign.

I’m sorry I’ve been brushing off your death. It honestly hasn’t felt real until now. It’s not that I don’t care, I do. I love you so much. I just want you to know that. I hope you’re doing OK, wherever you are. I hope there are plenty of gardens for you to tend, and greenhouses full of orchids.

All my love,

Your Little Princess