The Costellos in the Snow – A Father’s Pride
It’s snowing deep in Florence again, and I can’t help but stand in the garden with a daft grin plastered on my face. There they are — our brood — every one of them carrying a piece of us. You, my Debra, are always in the picture even when you’re not stood right beside me.
Ellie, our eldest, thirty now. Calm, steady, beautiful like her mum — she carries herself with a kind of grace that makes me proud every time I see her. James, our living lad, twenty-five, strong as an ox and stubborn as me, dark hair, caramel eyes, and a heart that beats in rhythm with mine. Dylan, nineteen, covered in oil and grease half the time, hands on an engine and a smile that says he’s already found his calling.
Grace at sixteen, the thinker. Her eyes are always off in the distance, dreaming, clever lass. Scott, fifteen, the cheek — too tall for his own good and forever winding his sisters up. Then there’s Simon, seven years old, cheeky grin plastered in snow, ready to lob a snowball the size of his head at me. Debra, six, with her pigtails and curious eyes, always asking questions, always ready to laugh. And little Eden, just three, bundled in her mittens, soft blonde hair poking out under her hat, sat on my hip and throwing snow at me like it’s her life’s mission.
That’s us. That’s the Costellos. We’ve built a crooked snowman with a carrot nose and scarf that doesn’t quite sit right. We’re loud, messy, proud — and we’re one.
Snapshot 1 – The Portrait
A heartwarming portrait of the Costello family outdoors on a snowy day. Gary, ginger-haired with stubble, stands proudly in the centre, arms around his children. Ellie, James, Dylan, Grace, Scott, Simon, Debra, and Eden gather close, smiling at the camera. Behind them is the crooked snowman. The Tuscan garden and rooftops of Florence stretch out in the distance.
Snapshot 2 – The Snowball Fight
A candid moment — snow mid-air, laughter everywhere. Grace takes a swing at her dad with a snowball, Scott is aiming at Gary’s head, and little Eden is giggling as she throws one at his leg. Gary’s ducking, laughing, and covered in snow already. The snowman watches silently in the background, as though it knows this family is unbreakable.
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That’s our life, love. Real, raw, daft as owt — and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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