When I was 15 I was very, very ill and ended up in hospital for 7 months.
It seemed everyone who visited me gave me fluffy toys or flowers.
But not my Gramp.
He gave me a pad and a pen.
And he said ‘write…’
I said ‘why?’
And he said ‘you must write…it’s important. You must write about what you see, who you meet and how you feel. It’s very important to write.’
That was 29 years ago,
I’ve been a copywriter for 20 years.
He died when I was 18.
This photo was taken in 1970.
He’s never left my heart.
I know it’s self indulgent, but I wanted to upload this.
He loved photography.