Snuggled up under a blanket, I watched bolts of lightning rip through the sky, from the conservatory at my grandparents’ house.
Every weekend for as long as I could remember, I’d swing by to see my nan Sheila, 78, and grandad Richard, 70.
They only lived a 15-minute drive away – so come rain or shine, I’d pop over for a catch up.
Seeing them so much made our relationship even stronger.
We’d usually have a Chinese every Friday at Nan and Grandad’s, then a roast round my parents on Sunday, too – my mum Sue, 49, and dad Stuart, 41.
He was the glue who held the family together Nan and Grandad – Dad’s parents – were the life and soul of the party.
‘Thanks for braving the storm,’…
