My mum sent me this picture at the weekend. That’s me with my dad and my grandad in my granny’s garden (both named John). I remember regularly spending summers watching them both trim the hedges in the garden in the sunshine and being utterly unhelpful. They’re both gone now and it hurts a lot but looking at this photo also reminds me how lucky I was to have both of them in my life. My granny and grandad’s story always amuses me actually so I thought I’d share it. They grew up on the same street and courted in their late teens. After a while, however, my granny’s mum said ‘you’ll have to let that boy go if he’s not going to propose to you’ so she did. Little did she know he actually had an engagement ring for her that he never got to use. After that they went their separate ways and my grandad joined the RAF during WW2. They both married other people and had children. It all worked out because my mum was born and although I never met him her dad sounds wonderful and I’m sure I would have loved him too. When they were both in their sixties/seventies their spouses passed away and they eventually sought each other out. They never lived together but they spent every day of the rest of my granny’s life together. This all happened a few years before I was born and I grew up with John (photographed) as my granddad all my life and he was a wonderful grandad.