Flowers in remembrance

I was talking about my grandfather on my mum's side yesterday at work; it was a conversation about family, losing them, and how they have influenced us. We were all in agreement that usually we don't know how much influence they are having until much later in life, particularly when it comes to grandparents.

Later on I was thinking about what I'd said, how fondly I spoke of my grandfather and the impressive list of things he had done in his life, how difficult it had been and how he'd triumphed - or so he told me one day when we were speaking about life and what makes up a good one. He had a family, had survived through two world wars and...well, I don't want to go into listing all the things he'd done; he was content with it though.

He passed away when I was eighteen and I missed him immediately...and regretted all the time I could have spent with him but did not, and I was plagued by those thoughts for a long time; I still am sometimes. Having said that, the overarching feeling I have is one of great respect, fondness and happiness knowing how much like him I am. He was a good grandfather and I treasure the moments I had with him.

When I think of him many things come to mind but always three particular things stand out, hobbies of his: Woodwork, playing music and photography. He was good at all of them, and a lot of other things besides, and I have very fond memories of times spent with him as he engaged in each.

One of his passions was taking photos of flowers and despite not all of them coming out as planned he did a good job.

He was often found wandering around taking photos of them and later he'd be in his darkroom processing them...As a little kid I'd be around somewhere, underfoot, walking along holding his hand and when in the darkroom sitting on my stool watching. They were good times and just like all good times they are very much missed.

I never met my grandfather on my dad's side so my grandfather on my mum's was pretty special to me and yet I can recall many times I could have been with him and was not; what a stupid kid I was, but as a kid I guess I wasn't to know right?

Anyway, I take some photos now and then...I don't think of myself as a photographer, just someone with a camera, and occasionally I get a decent photo. Because I spend a lot of time in the outdoors many of my photos feature nature and many are of flowers because I find them interesting and beautiful like my grandfather did.

In this post is a collection of a few of the photos I've taken - they aren't especially good photos and there's probably nothing at all special about them, but I like to think my grandfather would look at them and smile knowing he was one of the reasons I picked up a camera and chose to emulate what he did in my own non-professional way.

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I have so many more but I think what I have shared is ample. Each represent a tiny moment of my life, the time it takes for a camera shutter to open and close, but they're more than that. The moments trace back to someone else's shutter opening and closing and the photos it captured, my grandfather; more than the photography though is the moments I shared with him which are truly special to me.

I imagine my grandfather saying, Mr.Chips, you've taken some nice photos, as he places his hand on my shoulder in that reassuring way grandfathers do. It's a nice thought which makes me feel quite connected to him right now.