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, slàn, beannachd leat
Your description reminds me of my own grandfather, who, too, was a gentle giant. He passed away in 1973, and I still love and miss him 40 years later. He's one of the best men I've ever known. Thank you for sharing your memory of your grandad!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Rocky, we grow up knowing our grandparents are special, but I think when they are gone, it is only then that we realise how lucky we have been.
ReplyDelete:) Jode