When you lose a loved one, whether it be family or friend, coping or coming to terms with it can be very hard to do, there is no right or wrong way of going about this, and affects many people in different ways.
I lost my Grandfather a few years ago now, and still find it hard as he was my biggest idol.
The best and only way I find of dealing with such a great loss, is to remember all the good times we shared together.
As a child we often went to see my grandparents and being a boy my grandfather used to dote on me and take me everywhere with him.
He would always take me to the park, where we would spend hours playing on the swings and going for long walks through the woods where we would climb trees.
He was such a "larger than life" character, and would make me laugh all the time with his jokes.
He was very popular and loved by everyone and such a loss to us all as it was he who kept the family close, we would go round every Saturday as a family for tea, and when it was time to go, I would cry and beg that I could stay the night.
Having got my own way, my parents would leave, and granddad would take me to the shop and buy me the biggest bag of sweets you have ever seen.
We would then settle down in front of the coal fire, and granddad would start telling me stories of his eventful life.
My grandfather was in the Second World War and was captured by the Germans and put in a concentration camp where he was badly treated and starved for days on end.
He and a couple of friends decided that escape was the only way forward if they were to stay alive.
They succeeded in escaping but recaptured a few days later.
He then decided to go it alone and escape for a second time; again, he succeeded and managed to hide for a few days in the nearby woods.
He stayed there for as long as he could but was now starving and needed to try and get food from somewhere, he stumbled upon a farm where he stayed a few more days, pinching whatever food he could to stay alive.
One day he was found sleeping by the farmer, who luckily was an Italian and anti-war.
The kind Italian and his family took my grandfather in the house and fed him, they then hid him in the cellar until the war was over.
To this day my family and our Italian saviours are still very good friends, because after all, they are the ones that saved my grandfather`s life, and without them, I wouldn't be here and wouldn`t have all the great memories of the biggest hero in my life.
I lost my Grandfather a few years ago now, and still find it hard as he was my biggest idol.
The best and only way I find of dealing with such a great loss, is to remember all the good times we shared together.
As a child we often went to see my grandparents and being a boy my grandfather used to dote on me and take me everywhere with him.
He would always take me to the park, where we would spend hours playing on the swings and going for long walks through the woods where we would climb trees.
He was such a "larger than life" character, and would make me laugh all the time with his jokes.
He was very popular and loved by everyone and such a loss to us all as it was he who kept the family close, we would go round every Saturday as a family for tea, and when it was time to go, I would cry and beg that I could stay the night.
Having got my own way, my parents would leave, and granddad would take me to the shop and buy me the biggest bag of sweets you have ever seen.
We would then settle down in front of the coal fire, and granddad would start telling me stories of his eventful life.
My grandfather was in the Second World War and was captured by the Germans and put in a concentration camp where he was badly treated and starved for days on end.
He and a couple of friends decided that escape was the only way forward if they were to stay alive.
They succeeded in escaping but recaptured a few days later.
He then decided to go it alone and escape for a second time; again, he succeeded and managed to hide for a few days in the nearby woods.
He stayed there for as long as he could but was now starving and needed to try and get food from somewhere, he stumbled upon a farm where he stayed a few more days, pinching whatever food he could to stay alive.
One day he was found sleeping by the farmer, who luckily was an Italian and anti-war.
The kind Italian and his family took my grandfather in the house and fed him, they then hid him in the cellar until the war was over.
To this day my family and our Italian saviours are still very good friends, because after all, they are the ones that saved my grandfather`s life, and without them, I wouldn't be here and wouldn`t have all the great memories of the biggest hero in my life.
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