One year ago today my dear nanna passed away. She was almost 91 years old. I know that 90 years is a long time and there are many who would probably say that we were lucky to have her for as long as we did. But how can you ever get over losing someone so dear to you? How can you get over losing anyone who you love?
My nanna was an inspiration. Her life, had not always been easy. My grandfather was a timber-cutter and often uprooted his family to travel to work. She raised 5 children - each one born in different towns - often on her own, with little money and mostly in cheap or make-do shelter. After my grandfather's death from cancer, she went on to raise her youngest child alone, taking up cleaning jobs to pay the bills. She was a battler in the true sense of the word!
Some years after moving to the beach my nanna met her second husband. What followed was retirement, often highlighted by all the things that retirees do in a beachside community - bingo, senior citizens, travel. It was dampened at one stage by a battle with breast cancer that saw her lose a breast. But she never gave up and she became a true cancer survivor.
My memories of my nanna are sweet. I regularly stayed with her on school holidays when growing up. We often spent time going on beach walks. We did simple things like watching tv together, having cups of tea, eating meals, playing Scrabble....spending time! As I got older and had my children though, my visits became less often (as often happens with young children and car trips, I guess) although we would always make sure that we'd phone or I'd visit on birthdays, mother's day etc. My last true conversation with her was when she phoned me for my birthday in the month before she sustained the injury that went on to kill her. She talked for a long time. I didn't know then that that would be our last proper conversation, without the cloud of medication and injury hanging over her.
My mum says that I identified most with my nanna. We used to compare legs. It might sound silly but our legs looked the same....only hers were shorter! Her death, although not a total shock, was like having a part of my foundations crumble below me. Something I can't fully explain and something I didn't think would affect me as much as it has. Sure, you anticipate that when someone you know gets to 90, their days on earth must be limited, but the sense of loss that her death has brought about at the silliest moments is what astounds me the most. It's birthdays and Mother's Day. It's hearing someone say something that she might say. It's going to places that you think she might have enjoyed. It's catching a glimpse of someone that reminds you of her. It's spotting a wild bird and knowing that she'd have loved seeing it. It's all those things and more.
In the week before my nanna died and when she was going in and out of consciousness, I had a really vivid dream. I was travelling in the back of a car and she was next to me. She was talking to me and she was happy. I was happy to be with her. She told me that she was ok and that she was going. Then we both held up our legs and did the comparison thing and she said that I'd always be like her. I can't explain it, but I woke feeling radiant. Truly happy and loved. Does that sound weird? Perhaps, but I like to think that somehow, before she died, she managed to get a message to me that she was happy to be moving on.
So rest in peace Nanna. One year on and you are still missed!
(And thanks to my aunty for a copy of the picture. Nanna and me when I was a baby!)
