My grandad, Eric, and I had an incredibly close and special bond - spiritually linked, he was able to calm me as a baby when nothing else would and knew when I had a bad day at school or was in danger so would be there stood at the end of the road to check I was coming along at the expected time, or be outside in the car to collect me.

He spent time with me to learn times tables, spellings, tying shoes and encouraged (and paid) for me to take up playing the keyboard. He lived 2 doors away, so I spent as much time there as at home, perhaps more.

When I moved away to live with Wes he would be sure to visit every month if he could and we would talk on the phone at least once a week - he was incredibly proud when my children were born and used to come in making that Joe Pasquale de-de, de-der all the time - so instead of grandad, he was de-der to them :D

No matter where we went it seemed someone knew him, Eric was a miner and in later years driving the locomotives to take the men down the pit and return them at shift end. Able to count cards, nobody wanted to play him but he enjoyed going to Tackeroo pub to meet his old mining friends every Sunday lunch. You were cared about by so many more than me, there wasn't enough seats in the chapel, people were stood all around the perimeter.