My Grandad Adkin, my Mum”s Dad is in an urn on the top of a tall coat closit in the hall way at my parents house.
My Mum seems to like him there.
None of us mind, because we all loved him.
He lived with Mum and Dad before he died.
My Brother was still at home and after bringing his
friends home discovered Eric Grandad in the kitchen,
cooking a whole onion in the microwave dressed only in baggy Y fronts.
Grandad Eric told me tales of war, trying to get back to his regiment after armistice using abandened motorbikes and cars, to travel north through France and giving frightend German soldiers water as they became human beings like him.
Grandad Eric would come camping with us when I was a boy. I remember he was always mending his car.
At family meals Vanetta my sister gets Grandad down sometimes, she put him at the table once, my Mum was fine and we joked.
And we thought of him because we loved him.
I wish I could have taken him to France to visit his fallen friends.
But I think his resting place is fine.