It doesn't seem like it, but it was thirty years ago today that I held my newborn son in Rottenrow. I remember the intense feeling of joy, and the day we brought the carry-cot home and laid it in front of the fire in the Rectory of St Matthew's Possilpark.
Poor guy didn't have an easy childhood. Apart from being moved from parish to parish through his childhood, he had to deal with my addiction issues during his growing-up, and being the minister's son in the East End of Glasgow was never the easiest option!
However, he survived it all in spite of me, and last week he held his own firstborn in his arms. All sorts of emotions were flying through my gut as I took the photo here.
Just a few days earlier, Graham, for that is his name, had been made redundant by Harte, a big building firm in Lanarkshire. 700 jobs were lost that day as the firm folded. I thought disaster, but my resilient son just got busy, and has already gotten himself a new job with higher wages and a new Vauxhall Insignia to boot.
I'm proud of him today. 30 years old, and things are looking good! What a lucky man I am.
Happy Birthday, Graham!