BB and the Babushkas

This time last year, I received what was possibly the worst phone call of my life to date. It was my mother. She was somewhere between southern Queensland and northern New South Wales, my grandfather was in Melbourne, at the Austin hospital. Mum was calling me to tell me he had suffered a severe stroke and was not expected to recover, doctors expected he would not see the day through. They were right.

On this day last year I watched my dear grandfather drift away into the unknown.

On this day last year, I had to make the hardest phone call I have yet to make. I had to call my mother and tell her that her father had taken his last breath and that she would not make it home in time to kiss him goodbye.

It was my first experience of such a situation. It is a vision I will never forget, but he lived a life full of wonderful things to remember... and celebrate.

Despite feeling the past 12 months have gone somewhat quickly, it seems hard to believe he has been gone that long. My memories feel much more recent and his name is still next to my nan's on my phone's contact list.

I have recently been celebrating his life, and influence on mine, through my painting. I'm sure he would have gotten a kick out of them.

In loving memory of BB. 3 March, 1922 - 28 July, 2009.

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