Memories of my dear Grandad Samuel

What can I write of my dear Grandad Samuel. I was only eleven on the verge of twelve when he died so my memories are necessarily those of a young child.
I remember him when he used to come and stay with us in Hockley in the 1930s. I remember one morning when I had had my breakfast and he was having his. The post came and there was a small packet for Grandad. It contained a dictionary that he had won doing a crossword puzzle. He had a look at it and then handed it to me. I still have that little red dictionary. It is in the bookcase in the conservatory.
Once he sent me a lovely postcard. The picture was of a big red rose. I had it for many years but now it is lost. Maybe it is in a large case full pf bits and pieces in our loft. I must get it down and see if it is there. There is even the possibility that it is in an old photograph album, but not very likely.
Another memory is of walking across the fields holding his hand. We were on out way to Hawkwell Church. I have a feeling that he was not a regular churchgoer but I am not sure of this. I don’t really know why we were going to that church.
I can see him now walking down the road where we lived in Hockley. He was carrying his old Gladstone bag as he was coming to stay.
My mother looked after him in our bungalow when he had his last illness. She looked after him during the day and a retired nurse cared for him at night.
I would go to see him every morning before I went to school and I went straight to him when I came home in the afternoon. One day I went to the bedroom as usual and I could not open the door. I am not sure where Mum was. Maybe she had gone for a neighbour’s help. Later I found that Grandad had died during the day. He died in my bedroom but I never had any fear of this having happened there. His spirit would have been a very gentle one. I slept in another room during his illness.
There is still a small mystery in my mind about the door I could not open. This door had no lock.