The “who” in who, what, where, why.

I decided for the ‘who’ part of my project, to create a photographic family timeline. While my family is small, I’m lucky to say it’s a wonderful one.

The timeline begins with the fabulous Great Nanny Ice Cream. What a woman! Anyone reading this can probably guess why she was given the nickname “Nanny Ice Cream.” What better way to win someone’s unconditional love than with a treat? Although my memories of her are somewhat faint, I do know that her ice cream was the first I ever had. Having grown up by the sea, I’ve probably eaten more ice cream than most people I know, but to this day, I still hear that Nanny Ice Cream’s were the best. It’s a memory that has stuck with me, even if I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time.

Skipping forward a bit on the timeline, we get to Shirley and Brian, my grandparents on my dads side. They spent their lives working hard, making sure there was always food on the table. And when their kids grew up and had kids of their own, they took everything they had saved up, retired, and moved to Florida. That was a win for me because it meant childhood summers spent at the beach with them. Florida was hot, sticky, and full of that sunscreen smell. Some of my best memories are from those trips barefoot on scorching sand, sandcastles covered in shells, my grandparents watching from their chairs with that kind of peaceful contentment that only comes when youve worked hard your whole life and finally get to just be. Sadly, they passed away when I was still young and didnt get many years to enjoy their retirement. But theres comfort in knowing that they made the most of those last few years soaking up the sun by the beach.

Next up is my Nanna Jean and her sister, Jennifer.

Nans husband died young, so my grandad was never part of my life, and with my other grandparents passing away when I was still little, she was really the only grandparent I had, well, her and her sister. That made our relationship pretty strong for the most part. My Nan was a huge part of my childhood. As you can imagine, my parents needed all the help they could get, especially when they only had one parent between them to rely on. Late work nights, last-minute school pick-ups, weekends when they just needed to run to B&Q or grab some groceries, Nan was always there. Ive always imagined it must have been hard for them, having such limited help while raising a six-year-old.

That’s where my great-aunt Jennifer came in. Since my parents only had one parent to lean on, my great-aunt stepped up and became like another grandparent to me. She was special. The rock of our family for generations. A saint, but with a wicked sense of humour. She taught me how to cook, how to be fair but never let anyone walk all over me, and why education mattered. And, perhaps most importantly, she taught me how to properly clean bronze. She passed away just a few months ago, at 79, from lung cancer. Her funeral was my first. I sat in the front row and put together a collage of all my favourite things she used to say. I hung it by the exit so everyone could get one last laugh before they left. It had classics like “Medical Bacardi and Coke” and “Popping out to check the weather”. Which was her code for sneaking a cigarette.

I don't like to pick favourite's. But if I had to? Jennifer was definitely up there.

And then, of course, there’s my mum and dad. I count myself incredibly lucky to have not just one, but two parents who have always been in my corner, offering an almost supernatural amount of patience when it comes to me.

My mums childhood was, in a word, complicated. She grew up with two siblings and, for the first half of her life, two parents. Then, for the second half, just one. I think losing a parent so young shaped her in ways she probably doesn't even realise, but despite everything, she still looks back on her childhood with warmth. My dads childhood was a mixed bag too. He had both his parents, but family relationships are never straightforward. He had a sister who, let’s just say, made life difficult and now, they don't speak at all. It’s funny how family can be both the people who lift you up and the ones who weigh you down.

My relationship with my parents has always been a natural ebb and flow, good, then bad, then good again. Because, lets be honest, teenage girls take no prisoners. Not even their own parents. I know I gave them their fair share of headaches over the years, but they never wavered. And as I’ve gotten older, Ive realised how rare that kind of unwavering love really is.

Then lastly we have me, a now 24 year old girl that often feels like a little girl dressed as a grown up. My life so far has been both chaotic and mundane, depending on how you look at it. I’ve lived in 10 houses in 4 completely different places, I’ve made hundreds of friends in which I’ve kept 2-3 along the way, I’ve had a dozen romantic relationships and had a couple of heartbreaks, I've lost family members and gained new ones, I’ve dabbled in almost every hobby yet became a master of absolutely none.

For an average girl, I've had a fairly ordinary life, and I consider myself privileged for it. How lucky I am to have been able to experience the ordinary.