THERE are times when, as a family, we enjoy feeling that we are partaking in national occasions.
The husband and I have realized that the older we’ve become, the more we appreciate sitting down to watch events such as the Royal Wedding, the Jubilee celebrations and even charitable programming such as BBC Children in Need.
We all followed the rolling news coverage of the birth of the new princess, especially our Disney princess obsessed daughter.
Every day the latter dons one of her costumes, adds a tiara and her princess shoes, and floats around the house in what she must suppose is a regal manner. And while she floats, we’re treated to a rendition of one of the classic musical numbers such as her favourite Once Upon A Dream from Sleeping Beauty.
We were big fans of what the BBC achieved at the recent VE Day 70th anniversary commemorative concert. The night combined traditional music with more modern performances and also wove real stories into the programme of entertainment.
A highlight for ourselves, as well as many other people I am sure, was the actress Jane Horrocks’ reading of a letter composed by Lt George F Morrison of the 7th Battalion of the Royal Highlanders.
It was written in October 1942 in order that it could be sent to his mother in the event of his death and, tragically, it was to be the final letter his mum received from him.
Many at home were in tears by the time the actress finally succumbed to her emotions, and no one could have blamed her for breaking down as she reached its heartbreaking conclusion.
We were sobbing along with her, hugely impressed that she had managed to hold it together for most of the letter’s contents.
My grandfather, who was originally from Yorkshire, was a gunnery instructor in the Royal Navy in World War II on board HMS Sea Eagle.
He was sent to the naval base at Londonderry in Northern Ireland where he met my grandmother when he was sailing out of the city on a destroyer called HMS Rockingham.
This was why, after the war, he relocated to Northern Ireland. They married and my dad was born in 1947.
My grandfather, who died when I was at university, never really talked to his grandchildren about his experiences and I feel that it’s such a shame that we have missed hearing directly from the man himself about what he went through.
We have never been able to hear him bear witness about the fight against Nazi Germany, neither have we seen any memorabilia connected to his time serving in the forces.
Instead, I badger my dad to impart what he knows and I write everything down into the little book which I keep for all the information and memories mum and dad reveal from time to time.
Thus I also pay attention when veterans’ stories are told, hoping that some of what they say might relate to my own granda’s time serving his country.
It goes without saying that we owe them all so much.
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