Granddad

Dear Granddad,

I am writing this letter to you, in the hope that you will somewhere,
somehow be able to read it. In a universe where the potential for
possibility is infinite, perhaps then you and I will meet again. I want
it to be so. Its been a fortnight since you were lost to me, and my
family, to your daughter, my mother and to my brother and my father. In
that time we have thought of you, we have laughed and cried, demanded
to know why you were taken from us. Each of us has been forced to
destroy our illusions, to ask ourselves questions about life and our
purposes.

Why do I find it so much easier to write this as if were writing a
story, not as if we were talking about how you got the scar on your leg
(I know you got that falling off a telegraph pole, not chucking a
grenade into the back of a German truck in World War 2!), or how you
were chasing the nurses when you were in Hospital. It hurts even now,
and I know that this will be with me forever, but I think of the times
when you played cricket with me and Mark, and how you tried to teach me
Maths. I think of you pretending you were deaf when my Gran was telling
you off, and winking at me when she was sighing. I think of you
pottering about on the roof of the bungalow, and playing The
Entertainer on the Piano. All these things and many more I remember
when I think of you.

So, in this, my first letter to you Granddad, I send out to the Web, in
the hopes that you will find it and smile at the silly things I do.
I'll wish you well, wherever you are, and remind you that you are in
our hearts and minds and souls, and that we love you, and will miss
you, until the day comes, when we too have to leave behind those that
we love (forgive me Sarah, when that happens), when we will be together
again.

Lots of love

Paul