Bread and Butter

The earliest memory I have is of my grandfather. He died when I was a baby, in a car crash. I don’t know a lot about him, really… but I do know how he liked his bread and butter.

I’m maybe two years old. I’m sitting on his lap around a big dark circular table. I don’t remember what we’re eating exactly, only that he’s buttering a piece of bread. He put it in my hands and then used his hands to show me how to fold the bread in half, like a half-sandwich. He made another for himself, and we ate.

That’s it. That’s my first memory. That’s the only memory I have of my grandfather. From other people I’ve learned a bit about him, especially his fondness for laughter. Maybe I get that from him too…


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