How things came to be

I grew up in a conventional family (well, as conventional as a family can be); two parents, a sister, aunts, uncles and grandparents. I remember they worked together as a team back then and I'm proud that we still do now. 

I remember sleeping over at Nan and Grandad's so that my parents could have an evening to themselves. We would sit together and play games, watch films and stay up late. I remember sitting on Grandad's knee as Nan pushed us along the promenade in his wheelchair. I remember my cousin, sister and I helping Nan to push Grandad to the top of what felt like a seriously steep hill at the zoo. 

I remember Nan's world becoming smaller and smaller as Grandad's mobility declined and further still when his memory deteriorated, so much so that Nan could not leave him alone for very long because he would worry about where she had gone. Nan was a proud and stubborn lady and would not accept help. Not only was it her stubbornness that kept her from accepting help, but a fear that someone was going to come into her home and take over. Sadly, we lost Nan in 2014 and Mum took on her role as Grandad's carer. 

As with any story, and family, there are always two sides, my Mum's and my Dad's. My Dad is the youngest of four, because of this Nanny S has always been that bit older. She is now a proud 94 year old and although her physical strength has deteriorated, her strength of character has most certainly not.  

This is my family