I had only lived a third of this life when I lost my Grandad on Christmas Eve. I was 13 years old, it was my first loss and I have never experienced another loss like it since.
Twenty-seven years have not altered my memories of one of this world’s most wonderful men. I wish he had stayed here long enough for my children to have met him.
I wrote a poem that was read at his funeral, which from memory went something like this…
You will never be forgotten, Grandad. Merry Christmas xxx