Tomorrow as I sit and contemplate the life my family and I lead here in Australia, especially how lucky we are, I will set aside special time to think about my Grandad, Albert Frederick Bronson NX25023 who drove artillery trucks in the Middle East during WWII.
He was a very quiet man, never a harsh word passed his lips in all of my 34 years of knowing him.
He only told me three stories about his time away with war always saying “these aren’t things young girls should know about love.”
One of the stories was the day he decided he would no longer follow his religion. I remember standing there blinking at him wondering what else he’d seen and not being able to cry and give him a hug because that just didn’t seem fair. It was the era of not showing emotion and not too much affection.
Only man in my life allowed to call me Mandy.
So today as I type this Grandad, and tomorrow I will remember you.
I will remember you with the love only an eldest grand-daughter would know.
I wish we’d had more time.