me and my nan on holiday |
I can count the number of times I've seen my mums dad on less than 10 fingers. It's sad but he's not an important man in my life and I don't feel like my life has been greatly affect by him not being in it.
But yesterday, he showed up at my family home with three Christmas cards (one for me, my sister and our cousin) that had money in, an amount that my nan couldn't compete with this year, which I think upset her.
And then it made me realise, money isn't love. It's an easy present for people who you do not know, an easy present for the three grandchildren that you have no idea what they like.
Love is what our nan gives us on a regular bases. Love is the presents she picked out because she thought we would like them. Love is her buying our prescriptions when we are ill and can't afford them (when you are not in eduction, those buggers are not cheap). Love is the times she's picked us up from work or school because it's been too cold or we've been too lazy. Love is all the times she's looked after us in the holidays, the times she's picked my cousin up when he's poorly. The times she's sacrificed her days out because someone has needed her more. Love is pottering about graveyards with me and looking at all the dates/names. Love is the gossipy phone calls she shares with us, and knowing everything about our lives. It's the hugs and kisses she's given us over the years, the sleepovers we've had, the days out to the cinemas. Memories that we won't ever forget. Love isn't something that can be brought, its something that is made from all the good times together.
I'm not bitter that my granddad has not been in my life, because I have the greatest nan that I could ever ask for and she's better than two grandparents put together.
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