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‘It’s all a matter of balance, or even perspective,’ he said.
‘Everyone looks but sees things differently. It’s what makes us unique.’
Sandy thought of the words her grandpappy said to her whenever she was trying to fathom out a problem. On one occasion, he even had her standing on her head to look at the open fields and said to imagine skies were green and grass was blue. She’s countered that water would therefore run uphill and you could practically walk on the stepping stone clouds.
‘Exactly!’ he’d beamed, righting himself because he never asked her to do anything he couldn’t do himself. Nothing was impossible in his book, as there was always another way to try.
Oh how she missed him, and knew she wasn’t the only one as many had come to him for advice or just to use him as a sounding board. He never judged, just listened, and sometimes that was all that was needed.
They’d had a statue commissioned in his honour and his expressions had been captured perfectly.