Six Word Saturday: fifty years since my grandad died

Grandad, with my younger brother Craig. Kirkcaldy, Scotland, c. Mar-Apr 1964. Photo: Leslie family archive.

Grandad, with my younger brother Craig. Kirkcaldy, Scotland, c. Mar-Apr 1964. Photo: Leslie family archive.

On Boxing Day, 1964, my grandfather David Leslie lost his battle with lung cancer. He was part of my life for such a short time, but left me with lots of wonderful memories.

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10 thoughts on “Six Word Saturday: fifty years since my grandad died

  1. Goodness, 50 years seemed so long ago until I realised that my own grandfather died almost 50 years ago. It seems like just the other week sometimes. We have spent a lot of time this Christmas looking at grandparent/grandchild photos. They are so precious.

    • I know what you mean. I remember my grandad, who lived with us before he died. I’ve spent years thinking I must have been about five or six when he died, because I have these memories, but actually I was much younger. It’s ironic that although my father was a very keen photographer, we have very few pictures of his family (apart from mum and we kids).

  2. πŸ™‚ I didn’t even get the TV turned on! I fell asleep on the couch thinking I’d just shut my eyes for a few minutes …. I’m so enjoying Auckland being quiet for a change.

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