Thrusting his little arms in the air, my grandson did his happy dance.
It melted my heart.
I had an extra-special bond with 12-month-old Connor. I’d been in the room when my daughter Emily, then 20, welcomed him into the world on my birthday. Cutting his cord, I was the first to cradle him.
As he grew, our cheeky boy loved getting his hands dirty as he helped me in the flower garden.
And he laughed himself silly when my hubby Russell, then 50, pushed him on our garden trolley.
Whenever I wasn’t working at an
