Three weeks ago my grandmother passed away at the age of 84. She had a wonderful life filled with ballroom dancing, her garden and her beloved dogs. My mums oldest brother, Mike, was the one to go through her papers.
There were a lot of papers to go through.
It seemed my Nan did not throw anything away. There were photos of all the grandchildren dating back to our first years in school, drawings we sent to her, letters we wrote. As Uncle Mike was going through this mountain of stuff he would sort things into stacks of items he thought we would like back as reminders.
This is one of the things that came back to my mum and she passed it on to me.
A telegram sent to my Nan on the day I was born. My parents could not call my Nan on the phone because at the time she did not have one. Even if she did the cost of a trans-atlantic call from Canada to the UK 38 years ago would have cost my mum and dad a weeks pay.
The telegram cost dad about 50 cents. It’s short, sweet and to the point because each word cost money. The H/D means Hand Delivered.
What you can’t see in the photo right under the H/D is the faded date stamp : September 23, 1970. My birthday. I weighed in at 7lbs 12 oz.
Knowing my Nan kept it all these years makes it irreplacable to me.