Exiled in a kilt

Every year on the 11th of November, I go down to my Grandfather's grave and the war memorial. This year will be no different.

When he died 3years ago (in Canada, he was here before the rest of us) all of us grandchildren put a rose into the earth with his coffin. Before I had put mine in I took one of the petals of and put it in my suit pocket. I forgot about it and it stayed there, until I had the suit on again a few days ago and found the petal.

I hardly met my grandfather growing up - he was here, I was in Scotland - but I after moving out here I got to know him and his wonderful idiosyncracies (like going the entire day only eating 2 slices of bread & jam).

My grandfather served in the Second World War, He was stationed in Africa and spent the period from 1941 - 45 in a POW camp. His toe was shot off one time when he tried to escape. However, he would never complain of any hardship.

**I know this is of no interest to anyone but me, but hey its my blog**