My mum is 79 and my dad will be 81 this year. It occurred to me recently that the years that have brought them to this age have passed with alarming speed.
I’m sure we can all relate to that and how odd that can feel as we look back. My parents are Glasgow, born and bred, and nothing on this earth would ever prize them out of the city where myself and 5 other siblings were born.
They love to visit the family and enjoy being grandparents, but they’re never happier when they are back home in their small house in Glasgow’s East End. And it is a small house, but that never stops the family visiting ‘en masse’ with grandchildren. If we all turned up at the same time with our respective children we would number 28 and you could guarantee that my mum would make tea, soup and ‘well fired’ rolls with square sausage on for everyone. All from a tiny kitchenette.
The noise in the house would be unbearable to a stranger as we all try to speak over each other, each of us having separate conversations. All this takes place at the same time as my dad is trying to choose his horses for his daily bet at the bookies, a ritual that has taken place for as long as I can remember.
We would all be perched on the edge of couches and various chairs brought in to accommodate everyone and its effectively chaos.
Would I exchange it for a more sedate and spacious location? I most definitely would not. This closeness to family is unique and wonderful, it says who we are and defines our personality. Hold on to the ones you love, hold on tight.