When we opened my grandfather's safe, we found a stash of terrible family photos and school pictures of all of us grandkids inside, among the deed to the house, insurance papers and other important documents-This was all his doing, as my grandmother was a careful record keeper and would be turning over in her file drawer if she knew what a mess he had left.
My heart was warmed to see my name on a will from 1970, written in an old fashioned kind of flowery language that would never have come out of his mouth in real life, my beloved wife, my beloved children and grandchild. We may have lost something with progress; there is something so lovely in that old piece of paper.
These photos are of Christmas 1987, at my uncle's house.
My mother, brother and I lived in this house from 1976-79, my mother is responsible for all the Laura Ashley wallpaper.
The pig in the photo, snored when you pressed his belly, much like my grandfather, who could fall asleep almost any old place, having spent 40 years working the 4:00am shift at a dairy.
I inherited my sleep walking and talking from him.
My grandmother loved to tell about the time, she answered the door, to find a man that my grandfather had made arrangements to sell a cow to.
She called for him to get up and deal with the visitor, which he did, jumping up from a dead sleep on the sofa, and taking care of the transaction.
When the door was closed and the man was out of earshot my grandfather asked my grandmother what on earth had gone on.
When my husband has complained about my nocturnal wandering, screaming and general carrying on, my mother would say "well at least she hasn't sold any livestock."