Family photos are often the glue that holds our stories together.

This is my Granny Dot, who lived until she was 92 years old; through the Great Depression, War, serious illness, and the tragic loss of the love of her life.

She grew up on a farm in Australia and during World War II, she was an enemy plane spotter.

My Grandfather was in the Air Force, and was injured when his plane went down in the ocean. He was given leave, and when his unit arrived in my Granny’s town, they met and fell in love. They were married and as they walked from the church, it was announced that Japan had surrendered.

He built their first home, a farm and house by the beach in a nearby town, which my family still owns and which I visit every summer. They had four children. Granny said that my Grandfather used to serenade her as she washed the dishes.

In the early 1960s, my Grandfather was driving home and his Land Rover rolled over and he was killed. I could never imagine how that must have felt for my Granny and her children.

When Granny passed away about a month ago, we took her body back to our family home in the country, where we buried her next to my Grandfather, the love of her life.

We felt like we’d returned her home and that she and her love have been reunited.

The stories I have been told about my Granny and Grandfather, through photos, are absolutely moving. They are profound reflections of the times in which they were taken. And they are deeply human.

As you can see, my Granny was one tough lady. Rest in Peace, Granny Dot. I deeply admire and respect you. ~ shared by @hattiewhittle

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