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Sometimes The Most Ordinary Looking Objects Have The Best Stories (Or - Why Stories About The Past Can Be The Most Valuable Things We Can Have)
In my office I have got an object which - in all honesty - actually belongs in the room next door (that room was my Grandparents' bedroom).

The object in question spent a number of years in my bedroom at my Dad's house (until I brought it back with me on Boxing Day).  Don't worry - I didn't steal it.  My Grandma gave it to me.


The caption at the bottom reads "The last in bed put out the light".

All three previous owners of this object have now died.  (All three have been namechecked on this blog a few times before now.)

My Grandma was the one who gave it to me as a momento of my Grandad.  My Grandad was partially responsible for the chip at the bottom of it.  I say "partially responsible" because of the story my Grandma told me about it.

Apparently, when my Grandad still lived in his parents' house he shared a bedroom with his older brother (my Great Uncle Harry - The Leicester Forest East Pianist).

The ornament in the photograph was used to find out who was going to turn the bedroom light off.  This was done through a game of "catch" with - you guessed it - the ornament.  I am not sure what the rules where.  I am just glad it wasn't smashed to bits.

I only have a vague memory of sitting on a piano stool with Uncle Harry - he died when I was three years old.

However, there is a bit of a story connected with him that I would like to share with you.

This took place at my Grandad's funeral - and it involves all three brothers in a way - Uncle Harry, Grandad, and Uncle Roy (they also had a sister called Sylvia).

Uncle Roy was the youngest brother by 13 years - he was also the only brother who was alive at this point.

Uncle Harry had a daughter called Pat who had a nice looking locket on a necklace.  Now - there is one thing you need to know about my Grandad and Uncle Roy - they looked alike.  As in - if you put Uncle Roy on a diet and stretched him so he was a few inches taller - he and my Grandad could pass for twins (one of Uncle Roy's sons could almost pass as a double for my Dad).

Remember I said I only had a vague memory of meeting Uncle Harry???

Well, Pat opened her locket and showed me the photo inside it.  It was a good job that she had said it was a photo of her Dad because the man in the photo and the man standing next to Pat (Uncle Roy) couldn't have looked any more alike if they had tried.  So much so that it took both Pat and Uncle Roy to confirm the man in the photo was neither my Grandad or Uncle Roy.

Funny how families can look so alike even when thete is 20 years difference between the oldest brother and the youngest brother, isn't it?

The ornament may not be valuable in terms of money but the story attached makes it priceless to me.



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