The devastation of the Cathedral hit me hard ... like a piece of my heart had been ripped out. I wondered how a building could affect me so much. And I realised it was the special memories I have there.
My nan would often take me to the Cathedral when I was a child. I was in awe of it. We'd climb the tower stairs together. Me running up and down, hurrying her along, while she struggled in high heels. Then the exciting view at the top, overlooking the square when it was a pretty place to visit. I miss it and I miss her.
The photo I took of the Cathedral fascinates me because of the roof shingles. They remind me of a pack of playing cards. Nan and I would spend hours building (when she wasn't teaching me poker!) 'card houses'. Where a wobbly hand could send the whole city crashing to the ground. But we'd always rebuild it, stronger and better. And of course it would have to sit there in the middle of the lounge until I went home days after.
A nana is just the best person to have in one's life.