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I saw Grandad's gate open the other morning.
Wondered if Dad had parked in there, but remembered walking past his car in the Close.
It took a few seconds (quite a lot in brain time) to scroll through - no he's in the hospital, no he's in the home, oh no, no, actually he's dead and that isn't Grandad's gate any more, even if it still the the number 3 my Dad put on it, and the hook and eye fastening to keep the gate open when you reverse in, and the plants we planted as a family in the garden (including a few hardy Australian ones in honour of Uncle Jim.
Losing a Grandad isn't like losing your Dad0, but even that can sneak up unexpectedly.
I dream about my Nan occasionally.
She's usually being quite nice.
I suppose she lives in the part of my brain that's pre-twelve, because I did love her back then.
Even in the dreams I pause and think, "Hang on, you're dead aren't you?"
I expect Grandad to make an appearance soon. And I think it will be pleasant.
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