15th August

Some people see the GB for what it is. The symbol for identifying the bus is from Great Britain. Others seemingly get confused and think maybe it stands for Bulgaria, although as I point out, it would be BG. Some just think they are letters with no significance.

To me, they are my reminder of my Grandfather, Mum and Lindas' father, Geoffrey Boulter. It seems impossible to believe that a year has gone by since he passed away on August 15th. Those two letters remind me of the ring he was forever playing with. His initials engraved into the gold as he constantly twirled it around his finger. For those of you who met him, you'll know his grumpy stubborn forthright nature, his black humour, his love for his lost wife, his perpetual sweet tooth in the face of diabetes, Terrys chocolate oranges, and possibly his ability to hold a grudge for longer than anyone known to man!

He may well have been all of those things, but above those he was my very best friend and I miss him dearly. He was my rock on which to shelter.

So it seems fitting to me at least that I take the opportunity to include and remember him here on the day of his passing. A day where his true stubborness shone through like never before. The Doctors and nurses baffled that after two days and nights of not waking, troubled breathing and no signs of improvement, that he should promptly at 6am that morning ask in his normal abrupt manner to Linda and I "What are you two doing here?"

For the duration of that day he remained awake. Completely unaware that he had not been with us for the last 48 hours. Eating, drinking, complaining and telling tales as if it was any other day.

As the day drew on and the evening became the night, he started to grow tired and a little troubled once more. I held his hand as he gripped mine in his usual way for one last time. Asking Simon to fetch the nurse, and then us joining Linda to wait. I knew before the nurse came that he was gone, but I refused to speak the words to Linda or Simon whilst we waited. Not wanting to accept that the hope that had been inside that he would continue to live was no longer there. Replaced with the truth that he had finally found his resting peace.

So it is that I smile each time I see and polish his initials stamped on the back of Mums bus, and can still hear him loud and clear tutting and telling me how I am doing it wrong whilst i'm doing a repair amidst the short sharp 'Jamie'.....