mcspanner
Well-Known Member
Ladies and gents, my grandfather passed today at the amazing age of 102. When you pour your next homebrew take a moment if you would to reflect on a life that spanned a period of time that saw our world change in a way most of us could never imagine.
Born a year before the First World War started he would go on to serve in the Royal Navy during the second global conflict of a generation. He was aboard HMS Sussex when she sailed into Singapore to take the surrender of the Japanese forces in 1945.
The memories of the conditions he found there never faded.
Shortly after his return he learned that his only son was suffering with bone cancer and would soon die. My grandmother was advised that the best way to get over the loss was to start another family (I think bereavement counselling in the 1940's was a little more "tough love" than nowadays) and so my mother was born.
When my grandmother had a severe stroke my papa took on the role of primary carer which meant he had to give up work- something he was not planning on doing despite being in his 80's. He was still delivering furniture up and down the country and had seen four or five young assistants come and go- unable to handle the physical nature of the work.
After My grandmother died he resumed his passion for growing vegetables and would usually be found out digging up potatoes or clearing a bed for the next crop. He never seemed to tire.
So although we knew he wouldn't go on forever it always felt as though he would. This pic was taken last Christmas and there's no way he looks 101 to me. View attachment ImageUploadedByHome Brew1450392133.206767.jpg
Well I should probably stop rambling now, and just say how privileged I feel to call George Bullick my grandfather.
I'll miss you Papa. [emoji22][emoji481]
Born a year before the First World War started he would go on to serve in the Royal Navy during the second global conflict of a generation. He was aboard HMS Sussex when she sailed into Singapore to take the surrender of the Japanese forces in 1945.
The memories of the conditions he found there never faded.
Shortly after his return he learned that his only son was suffering with bone cancer and would soon die. My grandmother was advised that the best way to get over the loss was to start another family (I think bereavement counselling in the 1940's was a little more "tough love" than nowadays) and so my mother was born.
When my grandmother had a severe stroke my papa took on the role of primary carer which meant he had to give up work- something he was not planning on doing despite being in his 80's. He was still delivering furniture up and down the country and had seen four or five young assistants come and go- unable to handle the physical nature of the work.
After My grandmother died he resumed his passion for growing vegetables and would usually be found out digging up potatoes or clearing a bed for the next crop. He never seemed to tire.
So although we knew he wouldn't go on forever it always felt as though he would. This pic was taken last Christmas and there's no way he looks 101 to me. View attachment ImageUploadedByHome Brew1450392133.206767.jpg
Well I should probably stop rambling now, and just say how privileged I feel to call George Bullick my grandfather.
I'll miss you Papa. [emoji22][emoji481]
