One set of photographs
My wedding photos - not because I continue to have any great feelings for my ex - although he is the father of my children and fundamentally a good man.

But I'd want them because three very important people are in those pictures…


My Grandmother
A lovely old lady with whom I shared a passion for cooking, reading and gardening. When she was still with us the only thing we shared was our passion for reading…I have since discovered that the cooking and gardening gene skips a generation in my family.

Sadly she died four months after I was married and even in those photographs of the wedding day she looks frail.


My friend Stuart
Stuart was my ex's best friend, he was a fantastic guy, looked like a dark haired version of Steve McQueen.

He always had umpteen women constantly after him - the first time I met him I was reduced to uttering nonsense, something along the lines of 'wibble', simply because he was so good looking.
He also had the ability to make anyone laugh - mothers, grandmothers, babies, and all men just seemed to either want to be him or be with him. I'm sure a fair few must have hated him too though because he was such a great guy.

One of the things that was that part of his attraction was his huge addiction to adrenaline. If it was exciting and dangerous then he was there…power boat racing, canoeing and kayaking - he used to build his own, helicopter flying - he was a qualified pilot, and motorbiking.

The ex and I were married in the April, Stuart was killed two months later on Father's Day. It was a beautiful June Sunday, he'd gone out on his bike with a mate, he took a corner too fast and was killed almost instantly.

The night before we'd told him and his girlfriend that I was pregnant.

They had told us they'd just got engaged and would officially announce it the following day.


My dad
Yes, he's still with us, but three years ago (seven years after the wedding) he had a massive stroke. Aside from the wheelchair to which he is still confined, the person who he once was has gone.

Where once my dad would argue for hours about politics, current affairs or why people are so stupid these days now he's mostly compliant and easy going. He would read almost constantly and we shared many books yet for the past three years he hasn't read any thing more than the headlines on the newspaper.

I could go on and on about how the stroke has affected him - the losses he and we have suffered but as it is I can barely see through the tears.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 9 May 2008, 11:32, 6 replies)

I feel soooo lucky sometimes.
*Big hugs*
( girlinthehole, Fri 9 May 2008, 11:36, closed)

Ooh, nerve twanged
I have kept, and displayed, a photo from my Sister's wedding, as it is one of the last featuring my paternal Grandfather. On the morning, we had (almost) literally kidnapped him from hospital with the willing help of the ward nurses, hoicked him into his suit, and driven like nutters so he could see his first grand-daughter walk down the aisle.

By the end of the service he was tiring rapidly, and can be seen having a breather in the church porch just behind where we were doing a sword arch. By the time the meal was finished, he was on his chinstrap, and had to be smuggled back to hospital.

Sadly, I was living at the other end of the country at that point, and so I didn't really see him until just after my wedding, which he was too frail to attend. We did make the trip to present him with a bottle of Malt after the honeymoon, however, and the sight of the Highland Park brought back the sparkle to his eye and the old rogueish smile to his face.

Never really saw him again, as he deteriorated quite rapidly after that. Wish I had spent more time with the old bugger. As the God-Botherer at his funeral said, a Truly Gentle Man*.


Beautifully written, Chickenlady BTW.





*Didn't mention the sniper bit.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Fri 9 May 2008, 11:44, closed)

* hugs and clicks *
.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Fri 9 May 2008, 13:03, closed)

see above
hug.
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Fri 9 May 2008, 13:44, closed)

late to the party
but have a hug anyway

*hugs*
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Fri 9 May 2008, 13:58, closed)

Second chance.
You have my sympathy and empathy over 'losing' your dad to his stroke. My maternal grandmother suffered a couple of strokes when I was in my late teens. She spent a couple of years deteriorating in various hospitals and finally the nursing home, but was never really the Gran who had favoured, spoiled and loved me boundlessly through my young childhood. Although it was a natural part of adolescence, I deeply regret the time I missed with her in favour of hanging around with a bunch of kids I don't even remember.

The second chance comes in with my dad. Being a 'separated family' since before I can remember, I only ever knew my dad part-time and always felt that I was only a part-time aspect of his life. Long story short, we had a few fall-outs with some uncomfortable reconciiations between. I broke the last 'silence' to tell him he was going to be a grandfather. Five months after my daughter was born, dad had a pretty bad stroke. Having seen several among family members, it seemed pretty bad. In all honesty, I thought he was f%*#ed. Thankfully he's made a pretty good recovery and has reasonable mobility and motor skills again. Actually, the common psychological effect of relaxed inhibitions seems to have loosened his emotional tourniquet a little, seemingly making him a little more human. Since then we've both made much more effort to have a real relationship. I even took him fishing - he's shit but enjoys it.

Again, I'm deeply sorry that your dad has been 'lost' to his stroke and hope there is some odd kind of karmic balance that my dad appears to have been 'found' through his.

Warm regards and kind wishes.
Greencloud.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 9 May 2008, 13:59, closed)