My grandad was my hero
a gentle soul who never raised his voice,
whose laughter could fill a room
and whose eyes carried the calm of a quiet sea.
He was joy in its purest form
pulling funny faces just to see me smile,
spinning tales of a tiny, fearless mouse
who lived a hundred adventures in his imagination.
He watched me grow
through childhood’s wonder and teenage storms
always patient, always kind,
a steady presence in every season of my life.
Now, as I stand on the edge of a new beginning,
ready to build my own story,
my heart aches that he won’t be there to see it.
Yet, somehow, I know he will.
He will be there
in the laughter that echoes through the day,
in the warmth of a shared glance,
in every gentle act of love that reminds me of him.
Because love like his never fades.
It lingers in the air,
in the stories we tell,
in the quiet corners of our hearts.
My grandad may be gone,
but he lives on
in every smile, every memory,
and in me
Jessica Jury
30/10/2025
