I miss my Grandpa.
He was called Frank Troup and was my dad’s dad. Grandpa was tall and thin. He had a stroke before I was born so the right side of his body was unable to move.
He always wore a jumper over a shirt and trousers, and because he was tall, he had large feet and larger shoes!
I loved how he was always cheery. He was clever too, and my dad looked up to him.
Of course there was nothing I disliked. I just wish he had been more able and didn’t have the stroke.
I enjoyed it when we went to my grandparent’s house for Christmas, and everyone would open presents and his face would light up as he opened ones from us.
Even though I was less that two years old, I still remember when he was holding a Winnie the Pooh balloon that was mine. My dad took a picture of us like that with my Grandma and I still have it framed.
He always adored classical music and listened to it in his big, cosy armchair, or while he ate breakfast.
If I could speak to him one more time, it would take hours because I’d have so, so much to say.