In 1999, I became a grandmother for the first time. I can’t quite believe that it’s 18 years ago, but apparently it’s true. Phil, my eldest grandson, turned 18 yesterday.
I remember when he was a tiny baby, I’d finish work and head round to give him a bath and a cuddle. Now he’s taller than me, his voice is deep and he speaks in one or two word sentences in that way many boys of that age do.
Here we are at my daughter Rochelle’s wedding in late December.
Musings from the cold 