Leon, my son, shared with me the other day the thing he loved most about his
Great Grandad. The response was ‘his not listening’. Old age as Grandad often
told me had its disadvantages, but lack of hearing wasn’t one I’d noticed.
Exploring further Leon’s specific love the answer back was “Great Grandad not
listening to you when I said I couldn’t have another biscuit and asking you
again if I could have one.”

For me, that just turned four-year-old logic sums up many of our memories
I’m sure. Of a man who was generous, who loved food and who didn’t see the
point in denying someone he loved of something they wanted.

From the many free car lifts back from university to the mini cans of
Tango at the Moss Ross, to the Magic Faraway books read lovingly at bedtime to
the ill-advised driving lesson up from Bosley to Wincle we’ve memories to last
our lifetime. And if we keep half as many birthday cards and documents as
Grandad did, memories to last into the lifetimes of others!

The gift perhaps Grandad gave me most is the security of unconditional
love. He and Grandma gave us grandchildren a second place to call home.
Somewhere with our own space and where sunflower growing competitions, den
building, games playing, pancake marathon queues, pies with pastry initials and
Christmas joy with seemingly bottomless sacks happened under one roof. And
bottom bumps down the wide but steep stairs – a trick the latest generation was
just beginning to master and which grandma would have had his guts for garters
if she’d been there.

For me saying goodbye and thank you to Grandad is also very much about
remembering Grandma too. His re-telling of stories of their meeting, their
dances, his pacing when his sons arrived, the pounding on doors to tell
relatives and the realisation she’d called them Andy Stewart after a music hall
singer she was fond of (who grandad also looked like) still filled him with joy
despite his obvious loss. Gaby, my daughter, thrives on the story of the time
he hung Great Grandma’s Christmas present bracelet in full view on the tree. With
such love, it is of course only to clear to knew him well that with Grandma’s
loss, came Grandad’s pain. A pain I hope in some way was reduced by the love of
those who cared most around him.

So goodbye Grandad. I’ve never more wanted to believe that somewhere
you’re with Grandma and she’s pecking your ear off to find out more about the
latest generation she didn’t get to meet but would have loved with all her
heart. Grandma, he did you proud and loved them enough for the two of you
believe me.

On the day of my A Level disaster I’ll never forget you telling me that
if that day was the worst of my life, then I’d had a good life. And he was
right. In truth, today is one of the worst days of my life as I have to say
goodbye to someone I love so much. To repeat our last words to each other
‘Thanks for phoning, you always said. Thanks for answering was my routine
reply. I should have said, so I’ll say it now, “Thanks, for everything.”