My Grandma was really sick when I wrote this last Tuesday. Since then sadly, we lost her.
I had a bit of a shock as not been in contact with the hospital over the previous weekend and she had deteriorated to the point of them withdrawing care. It was so sad but right. She was 95, had a great life but her quality of life had just gone.
After the initial upset and the flurry of calls and texts I made, I wiped my face and went back to my office, to cry a bit more and try and get back to work and take my mind off it. It was hard. I felt fuzzy, heavy eyed but determined to stay and also pop and see my Grandma again before going home. I chatted to family on my way home, felt reflective, a bit sorry for myself and just drained.
Arriving home to my gremlin running to open to door for me flung me back into reality in a heartbeat. She wanted to look at the moon and the stars. Just that and only that. The simplicity of a toddler’s mind; so happy in her world where the moon and the stars are the most exciting thing ever. Oblivious to the reality that her Great Grandma was teetering on the border between this world and the next. Completely mind boggling really.
I sat and chatted with my hubby whilst she watched a bit of TV. We ate and as usual I shared a bath with the gremlin. The blue flannel as usual gave her immense fun; she could suck all the water from it, put it on my face and pretend it was a skirt. She climbed into the bath by herself and so proud of herself I thought she would burst. I got her into her onesie after hubby and I enjoyed tickling her and chasing her with the hair dyrer. She wanted to sit on the windowsill and stargaze some more for a while. I was quite happy to listen to her chat away and sing the Christmas songs she has learnt at nursery.
I just sat there and thought life just goes on. It is such a cliche but it just does. I felt sad and very reflective but a two year old needs her bedtime routine, her milk, some fun and to act like nothing is going on. I absolutely love the innocence of kids, as to her nothing is going on. Her biggest worry is she can’t wind her up music box and needs help to see that twinkly fairy spinning around. Kind of brilliant really.
So Grandma I never stopped thinking about you that night but I did have those thoughts dampened by your excitable Great-Granddaughter, who I promise will know exactly who you were; a fabulous, chocolate guzzling, grumpy, strong figure in her Mummy’s life.