Before I write this, this isn’t a sad post.. I promise!
3 weeks ago, my amazing Grandad sadly died tucked up in his bed. He was ace. Beyond ace. He is (alongside my other Grandad) the reason why I am the creative gal I am. He loved drawing, painting and fixing things. My childhood memories are mostly of the times spent at my Nan and Grandads with my cousins, drawing and making them visit the ‘art gallery’ we had made going up the stairs and across the landing.
In the days after he died, my cousins and I found ourselves going through boxes of photographs. Listening to the stories behind them and laughing through teary eyes.
My Grandads best friend had kept some photographs my Grandad had sent him whilst he was doing National Service in Egypt. Not only the photographs, but what was written on the back made me smile.
(My Grandad is on the far right in the front row)
Looking through photographs and reading the back of them made me smile. It also reiterated how important photography is. Sure we have memories, but photographs can survive generations <3
p.s What a handsome guy right?!