'Grandad'

I don’t recall the year I began buying my g
Grandad a box of wine gums for Christmas. Like charging into my sister’s bedroom shouting ‘he’s been, he’s been!’ at the very first glimpse of Santa’s loot under the tree, in the Holden household, it just went hand in hand with the festive season.
On the afternoon of December 25, we’d all bundle into the car, freezing cold and clutching a sack full of new toys we'd later excitedly show our grandparents. Grandad would greet us both with a big, warm hug, and we’d hand over a huge, beautifully-wrapped box of those deliciously moreish sweets.
His cheeky smile always suggested he knew exactly what lay inside that wrapper; he could tell from the distinctive-shaped box, and it fast became a running joke as he shook and smelled the gift, 'pretending’ to guess what was inside. Sometimes, we’d pop them into his hands with the words: ‘And here’s your wine gums, Grandad!’ They came to be one of those utterly predictable but oh so thoughtful presents; the kind of gift which, in time, almost comes to define a person.
Grandad would joke that on Boxing Day he’d secretly take the wine gums off to the nearby park, hurriedly opening the box and delving deep inside the plastic wrapper, shoveling the sweets into his mouth, one by one. He’d do this ‘so that Nanna couldn't have any’, he jested. He loved those chewy, gummy sweets so much he just couldn't bear to share them.
This year, I’ll head to the supermarket as ever for the ‘big festive food shop’, popping in the trolley a Chocolate Orange for dad, a packet of special toffee for nanna, and, you guessed it, a huge box of wine gums for Grandad.
But I won’t get to see Grandad’s knowing grin as he sets eyes on that distinctive-shaped box. I won’t watch as he sniffs and shakes the packet, trying to ‘guess’ its contents. And I definitely won’t get to hear his tried and trusted joke about taking said box to the park and scoffing the sweets in one sitting.
Instead, I’ll unwrap that distinctive-shaped box myself, after sniffing and shaking the packet and attempting to ‘guess’ its contents. Then I’ll share the sweets around.
This year, there’ll be no jokes about sloping off to a park bench to eat them. We’ll each of us enjoy one of those moreish sweets; my Nanna, my parents, my sister, and I. And we’ll no doubt laugh about that old tradition. More importantly, though, we’ll remember Grandad: the newsagent's number one confectionery customer and our number one comedian.

It's a rare occasion I write anything personal here on A Lauren to Herself, but for me, this little story - my entry for the Transun festive experiences bloggers' competition - best sums up Christmas. If I win, I'll be treating my nephews (along with my sister) to the grand prize - a day trip to Lapland. The look on my nephews' faces is my motivation. Oh, and I'll make sure to take a box (or two) of wine gums on the plane over.
I hope you liked this post.