Saturday, 7 January 2012

The greatest loss

On the 7th January 1942 my Dad was born in the house we loved to visit as children, our grandparents home. I adored hearing the story from my Grandma about how the snow was up to the window and Grandpa had to go out and chop some wood for the fire. Today would have been his 70 birthday and he would have made the best Grandfather. He died 6 weeks after I graduated from University and I have missed him dearly every day. There is no greater loss than your father missing from all the special events of your life.

In memory of my wonderful Dad, I found an old photo of us together when I was tiny and crocheted a picture frame for it. It makes me smile and reminds me of how lovely he was.

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