My Grandfather.

My grandfather and I, aged about 18 months.

There were so many wonderful things about the man who was my grandfather. His sense of humour (a postcard sent to my father: “The weather is here, wish you were wonderful!”), his height (6’5, and he would behave like an overexcited child if he ever came home having met someone taller), his adoration and dedication to the many dogs he had over the years, and most importantly to me, the fact that I got to call him grandpa. There is so much to the complexity of his character, that in the wake of his passing, I am terrified I shall forget parts of him. So, in aid of my own memory retention, below are some of the things that I never, ever want to risk forgetting about my grandpa.

1. That when my father told him that I was on the way, he exclaimed “but I’m far too young to be a grandpa!”
2. That he would always indulge in my desire to ‘ride the tractor’ (which was actually a sit-down lawn mower) when I went to his house, for many hours on end.
3. That he took me to see my first ever theatre productions, including Cinderella and The Emperor’s Nightingale.
4. The way he pulled me to him on my 6th birthday and whispered that my birthday present was that I would learn to ride horses for as long as I still possessed that desire. He paid for me to learn from that day on, until I was 13, and an expert.
5. The way he would stand with his hands clasped behind his back.
6. That he would always describe his youngest dog as a ‘pest’- and that was how I learnt that word.
7. The grandfather clock he had in his home, that would chime every hour, and he would open up the body to show me the swinging pendulum.
8. The walks he would take me on along the canal with his dogs, and the picnics we’d eat out of the back of his Volvo.
9. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled.
10. The way he would clatter his cutlery, stick his elbows on the table and smack his lips to make me laugh at the dinner table, and then act like a naughty child when his wife caught him out with a loud and disgusted shout of “JIM!”
11. That he was a champion high-jumper.
12. That he was promoted to Captain in the National Service at an unusually early age, and was an immensely talented Civil Engineer.
13. His Salford accent.
14. That he loved jigsaws.
15. That the only video he had in his house was Disney’s “The Fox and the Hound”, and that I would watch that every time I went to stay.
16. That he would take me to the fair when it came into town and let me ride everything I wanted.
17. That he would allow me to feed the dogs for him, leaving me feeling immensely proud and important.
18. That he tried, unsuccessfully unfortunately, over the years to spark an interest in bird watching for me, as he loved it so much.
19. The way he would always insist on calling me ‘Bun’, my childhood nickname, even into my early twenties.
20. The way he lent down to me on his last birthday, as we were all squashed under a gazebo having a picnic as it poured it down outside, and whispered so only I would hear, “What a daft way to spend my birthday, eh?” and winked.
21. The way his voice sounded the last time I ever spoke to him on the phone. Weak and croaky.
22. That he died on the 2nd October 2014 at the age of 84, with the dawn chorus just starting and the daylight just breaking.
23. That his coffin just seemed far too short for a man of his height. Until I reminded myself just how much he had withered in the months prior to his death.
24. That he was one of the funniest, gentlest and most caring souls anyone could have ever met. And that the church was packed to bursting to send him off, filled with people who all loved him just as much as I did.

I am so devastated to have lost the man who gave me the surname I bear, who helped to raise me, who was the only grandfather I ever knew. It is a small measure of comfort to know that he was adored by so many, and to know that he would have been so immensely happy to see his whole family and all his old friends gathered together to celebrate his life and his impact on ours. I will always miss the man named James “Jim” Harwood Trapp, my grandfather.

The “tractor”. About 4 years old.

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My Life in Letters: J.

For J, I have one person in particular I want to dedicate this letter for my life to. Julia. My step mum. She also happens to be one of the greatest and bravest women I’ve ever met in my entire life.

I met her when I was only 5, and she has been a constant source of inspiration every day since. Ever since I’ve known her she has suffered from kidney failure, and for years was on dialysis. Though she no longer has to dialyse since she got a donor kidney, she still suffers from many other ailments including multiple bone diseases and also, blindness. She lost the sight in one eye about 2-3 years ago, and soon after lost the use of both. This is irreversible and can only be described as the same thing that happens to those who get old- bits of the body simply stop working. But Julia is only 40 something years old.

Despite these things, she has always been the most amazing mother to not only my two step siblings, but to me too. When she and my father split up, nothing changed- she still welcomes me home as one of her own children, and I still see her as a second mother. We’re amazingly close, and she’s one of the best people I know. She’s always so full of optimism no matter what, and it’s truly amazing to know someone like her. I love her with all my heart and I always will. ❤

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The Easter Weekend Down South

On Thursday I got the train back to Oxford from Manchester at half twelve in the afternoon. Since then, I’ve had a BUSY time, considering it’s only been a day and a half.

Once I reached Oxford, narrowly escaping death at the hands of my clearly psychopathic, very talkative but not legible seat-mate on the train, I was met by my friend Lucy. We went back to her house briefly to select some films for our night in with chocolate, and headed to a pub for some drinks. 
Then to my best friend Tav’s house for the three of us to have a meal. Tired from my journey and early morning / late night, I wanted to go home and relax. They had other ideas. A club in Oxford was doing an  Easter free entry night, and they decided we had to go along. After much persuading I agreed, and we headed to another pub for a drink with my parents, before back to my house, then back to Lucy’s to get ready for our night out.
In all honesty, I’m glad I went now. The club was kind of quiet, but it was a good night; I got to see my friend Grant who I’d not seen for ages, and also my friend Kat, which was good. Plus I got a new dress out of it, as Lucy didn’t want it any more. (:

Today, my sister, her boyfriend and his son came over for a family Easter meal. Tav stayed too as she was over the night before. We had an Easter Egg Hunt, which is always violent when myself and my sister Gwen are involved as we are both very competitive, and made worse by adding her boyfriend Mark, Tav and Mark’s son Shamen into the mix. Tav ended up slamming a door on me as we rushed to find the next clue, and shoved me to the floor when I found it before her. I love my best friend. 😛
Tav and I also found time to squeeze in a photo shoot for Uni before she left.
The rest of my evening has been spent cuddling my cat, eating M+M’s and being on Skype to Dom. 

Still got a lot to fit in before I go back to Manchester on Tuesday, and I’m already knackered! Still, it’s been fun so far. Happy Easter everyone!

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