Fathers, and father figures, are a strange thing. I'm lucky to have had two amazing people to help bring me up. My dad, who first met me and my mum when I was almost a year old, and hasn't ceased to be awesome since (occasional old man-style grumpiness aside) and my Grandad. I still can't believe it's been more than six years since he died - he's never far from my thoughts, and I know that if he was still alive today he'd already have planned a huge trip to California to come visit (he was freakishly adventurous well into his eighties). I'm also pretty sure I'd be receiving rescue packages of English chocolate from him once he discovered how rubbish the American stuff is...
So, despite my general belief in the commercial lameness of such holidays, I'm thinking of them both today. I might even go and hunt down a Wispa from Bristol Farms as tribute to my sugar-obsessed Grandad.
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