I'm so shit at dates its unbelievable.
Soon, or perhaps it has already passed, I think it may have been Wednesday. It will be the one year anniversary of my Granddad's kicking the bucket.
It's something I rarely speak of, and I'm not sure if I've fully grieved yet for it.
The BB couldn't believe it when I told him, but then again he thinks once Dad joins him in the All-Dead Party, I'm gonna totally lose it and nuke myself.

He went into hospital for a routine knee operation just before Christmas, he was ok, not exactly in the best of health, he was suffering from the curse of our family, cancer.
The knee operation went fine, with one tiny little problem, he came out of it with MRSA or a variant of it.
But he seemed to be battling it ok, seemed to be fine.
We went round and saw him just after Christmas, he was amused by me and my brother playing with his crutches.
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A small word about my Granddad now, some people have told me that I'm so laidback that I'm practically vertical, however I have my other Granddad's quick temper, I rarely lose it, but I do get angry.
This man was so laidback he was practially in a coma, his motto was "anything for an easy life"
So he'd never get into arguments, rarely stick up for himself, content to let the world drift by him, only worrying about providing the best for his family.
He used to love music and animals, like everyone in both sides of my family, and when we had our dog, would rummage around the cupboards looking for packets of biscuits to open for her, singing whatever song in the chart he liked at the time.
My Dad used to take him fishing with my uncle J and my Brat, and even if he never caught a fish, he was happy listening to my brothers rock music and watching the birds in the sky and everyone else catching the fish.
He had a wicked and gently sarcastic sense of humour, teasing my Nan who never cottoned on, about simple things, one of my best memories is when we were all watching "The Good life" and she couldn't remember Penelope Keith's name.
"Penny Lane." He said promptly when she said that she was sure it began with P and over the course of an afternoon convinced her that it was right and the Beatles song was actually about her.
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Just after term started again, my Mothership rang me.
Granddad had collapsed, and was in intensive care, it was serious but he seemed to be holding his own.
"Don't come home, to be honest, it won't do you any good and there's nothing you can do, if you need to come home, we'll call you."
So for two weeks, I went everywhere with my phone.
He seemed to be improving.
Things got bad for Dad again, his illness was getting worse, although I didn't know it at the time and there was problems and rows with his family - The reason why I get angry instead of sad about the whole fiasco. Maybe I'll tell of them tomorrow.
Dad rang me one Tuesday, crying down the phone, just before my Driving Lesson.
"Granddad's dead." He sobbed.
I felt so helpless and bad, I should have been there to see him one last time, should have gone home before.
There was nothing I could do.
The hospital put down that it was the cancer that killed him, but that hadn't even been a problem at the time, not even got to the stage that Dad's had been in the previous Easter.
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The funeral was hell and I'll tell of that and my side of the family that as far as I'm concerned are scum tomorrow.
Because I'm angry at it now, proper shaking angry and this Blog entry is long enough as it is.