I forget the exact year he died, think it was 2 or 3 years ago now... I am not sure though.

My bamps or by his real name Victor O'Daire was a man of great integrity...
He was a strong proud man who though old when he died, had lead a very fulfilling life. He'd served in WW2 as a commanding officer in the royal air force, have seen his photos of him shaking hands with the Queen over the medals he'd been awarded and had lived on an active life even as an old man.

I can remember the times as a child how he'd take me to feed the ducks then when we got back to my grandparents home, how I'd have him act like them and make him eat off the floor like one. Even in his old age, it didn't matter what silly little tasks us kids set up for him he would do them.

Out of all his grand children, it was me who he saw the most though. I found myself a lot of the time staying down their house where they would look after me and in a way, I could see my great grandfather as a sort of father figure... He'd always call me his boy, proudly talk to me, listen to me and play games with me. I could never get in to any trouble and yes, I'll be the first to admit they spoiled me rotten! Both my great grandmother and grandfather.

It is a shame though when his first case of cancer hit... He started to lose mobility, his mind started to go from Dementia and though he could remember everything from before his Dementia, it was anything you said or done after it that got forgotten. I am grateful for the fact he still remembered everything from before though as it allowed him to remember his family and those he loved.

The most struggling moment for me was the first time I saw him in hospital... By now he had two cases of cancer, the first they stopped but as mentioned, it had crippled him. The second was more damaging... It left him needing proper hospital care and it was by then, we knew he'd not have much time left. I remember how when I first saw him in that hospital bed, I had to leave the room and cry. I could not face it, I could not accept that frail weak man who had shrunk in stature and size was the man I called my grandfather. It was like looking at a stick thin man who would forget anything you said to him in ten seconds... As painful as it was though, I returned to the room, spoke with him and when we had to leave I was shaking like mad.

I visited my great grandfather in hospital I think it would be four or five times... My great grandmother told me not to go though... Not to be nasty as she loves me to bits! She just did not want me to see her husband in that bad a state... She knew how close me and him were and she did not want me in pain by it.

It was his third and final case of cancer that done the job though, it was that final third case that took my beloved great grandfather from me. The worst part is, the man I'd loved, the strong man who deserved better had lost all dignity having to live in a hospital ward while his wife sat at home waiting for the news of his passing while having cancer herself.

I remember my mother called me the day after his death... He'd died in the afternoon and as she had received the news so late, she did not want me to go without sleep over it... I also remember how at his funeral I could not cry... Not one tear came to my eye. I don't know if that sounds cold, cruel or horrible but the way I felt was he was no longer suffering. His pain was gone and the man that died in that hospital bed was not my grandfather.

I will for ever miss my great grandfather... I love you lots Bampy, may you rest in peace.