I have a confession to make... | Leicester Photographer, Julie Grant.

I have a confession to make. I haven’t been feeling at all Christmassy this year; which isn’t at all like me - I usually have it all planned out from mid November. I guess it’s not that surprising given the year it’s been.

But then last night, I felt a shift of mood.

We’d collected the real tree that we like to put in our kitchen and as I decorated it with the children (that’s another story) I realised that this tree holds all of my memories.

It isn’t colour co-ordinated and it doesn’t hold the beautiful glass baubles that I’ve invested in over the years. In fact, to an outsider, it’s a mess.

But every one of those decorations can tell a story.

The gingerbread, and snowmen that the children painted as babies. The numerous handmade decorations they have brought home from school.

The felted baubles that we bought on our incredible trip to Lapland.

My Grandpa’s decorations.

Now, my Grandpa absolutely loved Christmas. I have no idea where this passion came from but for the whole of December he acted like a kid in a sweet shop. He would make paper chains and hang them across his living room ceiling, there would be balloons, everywhere. And then, there were his decorations for the tree. With no consideration given to colour co-ordination it was a total mismatch. But as a child, I was in awe of his wonderful collection. There were robins, satin covered baubles, glass baubles in every colour of the rainbow. The lights were baubles and every single one was a different character.

And then there was Santa.

For me, Santa was a thing of wonder. Had he been sent by the real father Christmas? He always looked so jovial and despite being small he always had pride of place at the top of the tree.

Grandpa passed away in 1987. I was just 11 and it hid me hard - I adored him, he had a game he’d play with us where he pretended to be a crow and he’d tickle us until we couldn’t breathe. We’d watch the horse racing on Channel 4 and pretend to place bets (not sure Mum knew about that!), he taught me to be the best player of Crazy 8 EVER and every time we moaned about dinner he’d say, “would you prefer a slice of bread and butter and a walk around the table?”. This always confused me and my brother as their table was attached to the wall - did he mean walk around the bungalow or walk through the wall? So confusing.

He also used to take us to the sweet shop every day and buy us a quarter of sweets (sorry Mum, don’t think you knew that either). And because he had diabetes he ALWAYS had digestive biscuits which we would pester him to share.

Every year, we would spend the day after boxing day at my grandparents. We’d have another Christmas dinner followed by a game of Newmarket. This always ended up with an argument over someone having the queen of hearts and not putting it down.

So, when my Nan passed away and my parents were clearing out their loft, imagine my delight when they found his suitcase of Christmas decorations.

There was no question, I was having them.

And every year, without fail, they grace my Christmas tree. And every year, they remind me of my wonderful Grandpa and I raise a glass to him.

And this is why I wasn’t feeling Christmassy, I hadn’t gotten round to putting my memory tree up. Now, I’ll allow it, I’m wearing a festive jumper and I’ll have a festive tipple to mark the occasion.

I hope you and your families have a wonderful Christmas, albeit a different one and that you get to make some wonderful memories too.

Merry Christmas!

With love, Julie.x