bignoseduglyguy

Matchbox car memories

Reading a post by Kennamatic just now (the wee small hours) reminded me of my gran who died when I was 8. I remember coming home from my first night at Cub Scouts to see everyone looking sad and being told she had died.

Apart from photographs and the smell of braising kidneys - she cooked a lovely breakfast - I sadly remember little of her. The only thing I recall with clarity is that when we visited her, after a hug at the door, I'd always run to her chair. Tucked between the cushions would be a small box containing a shiny new car.

I miss not knowing her better.