Saturday, 16 March 2013

St Pats = Memories of Grandad

Today is St Pats Day, for most its a day full of fun and merriment, mischief and all round "Irish Craic", for me its a day tinged with sadness as I remember my grandad. 

After a long and brave battle with prostate cancer, grandad died on St Pats Day 10 years ago today.  At the time I was heavily pregnant with my first child.  Grandad died knowing that our first born was to be a boy and his middle name was Max (named in his memory).  I still clearly remember the utter heartbreak and sadness I felt knowing that my brave, strong grandad was never going to meet the newest member of the McIntyre Clan. 

Grandad was a gentle giant (over 6ft tall), he was calm, kind, peaceful and very proud of his scottish heritage.  A quiet man, never "over the top" with affection, but all of us grandchildren knew we were loved.

Like anyone who is or was close to their grandad, I have a head and heart full of wonderful cherished memories and I will spend my quiet moments of calm today remembering them, all with a smile on my face and a tear or two in my eyes.

                                                                    For a Grandad,

                                                      never forgotten and always missed

                                                         soraidh, sl├án, beannachd leat