Dad ..

I'm writing this at lunchtime on Christmas Eve - a time that is inextricably linked with memories of my Dad. I can remember him coming home from work one Christmas Eve lunchtime when it gently began to snow. By the time we were woken to go to Midnight Mass the light dusting had frozen over and I can always remember the crunchy noises we made as we walked down the street to the church. A few years later, as a spotty 17 year old, lunchtime on Christmas Eve was the time I met him at the pub, as we both worked in factories across the road from each other, and I can still remember the crush and the cigarette smoke that filled the pub. Sadly, Dad's latter Christmasses were spent with dementia in a nursing home when he had no idea what day of the year it was..

Today's photograph is actually of my Grandad, larking about with my sister Catherine in about 1964, and it makes me think how much my Dad must have missed his own Dad when he'd died. Enjoy 'em while you've got 'em, folks!
Merry Christmas to all ...