The current challenge

I have started this blog in order to do a month's challenge of trying to write a letter a day to certain people. I don't mind if people read and comment. I don't intend to name the recipient however people who know me may know them.

Friday, 23 January 2015

To a deceased person

Whilst there are a few people in my life I have lost over the years, mostly relatives but also some friends, when this came up I immediately thought of one person. My Granny. She was the first person I was old enough to remember losing, and I remember the funeral (if a little vaguely). And yet, I also feel I was never old enough to really understand or say a proper goodbye.

What I do remember about my Granny is love. I know I loved her, and her death put me in shock for weeks, until I finally found myself able to grieve. I was maybe 10 years old (give or take a year). What I remember about being told is this, we had just gotten back from a holiday in Jersey of the ferry. I'd had a really good time, except on the way home I'd lost my crucifix necklace. I'd been off crutches for the last week of the holiday. When we got home, Dad made the normal call to Granny and Grandad (I believe, it may have been to my Aunt, or they may have called before my dad could call them.). And that's when he found out. He gathered us in the front room and told us. He broke down as he did, and gathered us all for a hug. It is the first time I recall seeing my dad break like that. I think that added to the numbness of the situation. And maybe it was because we aren't a big family for comforting gestures like hugging that I found the entire thing more awkward and uncomfortable than upsetting. I didn't cry for a few weeks, when one night I know I was lying in bed and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Granny was gone.

Granny, I remember you used to knit little things for all of us, and I believe we have Snow White somewhere, whilst others inherited the dwarfs. I think mum still has the snowman and santa decorations you made for our tree as well. And whilst it is cluttered, your sewing table is being put to good use. Thank you as well for the ring. Even though without alteration it would never fit me, it's a lovely family heirloom, and if I never have children of my own I will instead pass it on to my niece or nephew. There are so many tokens left by you in my life still. Often little things. And I know you will always be important in our family. You are gone, but you are never forgotten.

I hope you are proud of us. It always felt important, that you would be watching over us and smiling, proud of what we have achieved. We might still have some way to go, but I still imagine your guiding hand, helping me when I need it most.

I know now that none of it was my fault, when as a youngster I would think I had done something bad to cause you to go. But that's not how these things work. It was your time for peace, after all you had been through. Even during the cancer I remember you smiling, putting on a brave face for all your grandchildren.

You would love my niece and nephew, and I know you would have spoilt them rotten. Although they know Eileen as great-Granny at the moment, I am sure you understand. They are still little and it would make no sense to them. As it is Eileen treats them like her own great-grandchildren, and I am sure you would have it no other way. When they get older, we will explain. Mum and Dad still have the photo of you that I remember treasuring and dusting. I always got a little obsessed with it, wanting to make sure you were always remembered. I know now that they don't need physical objects to still feel your presence. But it was how I coped.

So, to a woman who I remember helping in the kitchen, who had a fluffy dog nightie case myself and my cousins would occasionally capture, and I never remember saying a negative thing in my presence. Thank you.

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