Mum and I were planning to go down to Gran's today to try and persuade her that she needed daily care, of some description. Half way down, we heard that she'd fallen again, and had been carted off to Chichester hospital for assessment. So we assembled at her house and drunk tea and spent the day talking to the hospital and the occupational therapist / carers / A&E people etc etc. So it all went rather downhill rather a very quick but rather nice start. Anyway, she's ok, still in hospital, and hopefully they've now realised that she needs some proper care.
But the strange and wonderful part of the day was looking randomly in one of Gran's chest of drawers and finding a whole drawer full of old photographs, ration cards, letters from when Grandad was in the army. Just incredible. Especially when I've pretty much never heard anything about their families. In the photos were 5 generations of Gran's family - her grandmother, mother, her, mum (who married her son) and then me. And really strangely was a whole set of photos of my father. I've never seen any photos of him from anything but his last few years of life. It really made him seem real, for the first time I think.
My great-grandmother's wedding:
Great-grandmother in (we think) her WW1 land army(ish) uniform:
Gran and Grandad's wedding:
Mum and father's wedding (with a tiny bit of their fab light blue e-type jaguar in the background):
Me at school!: