Al Byrne
My one presiding memory of visiting my granddad when I was knee high to a shepherd’s pie is, of all things, screwing around with the old man’s stair lift. Utterly lost on me and my brother was the importance of the machine for allowing my granddad easy ascent – all we saw was a hilarious toy that distracted us from the boring grown-up talk that was going on around us. I’m fairly certain we broke…