Hi, Grandma.
I'm not entirely sure why I've taken my time out on a
Saturday to write you this little message. But it's days
like these that I miss you most. I miss you taking up residence
in my living room, telling me what to do and what not to do,
giving me advice, talking to me about everything, even if I
didn't want to. And when you got cancer, we ignored it. We
carried on talking about everything, but missing that huge
factor. I knew you weren't scared of dying, but I was
scared for you, didn't you see it in my eyes, Grandma? I
was scared. You were the only person that would talk to me like
I was important. Like I was equal... grown up. My opinion
counted.
We didn't even mention your cancer even when I came with
you to the hospital every Friday evening. It was like a huge,
unspeakable secret. But I thought of it, I thought of it all
the time and I'm so sure that you did too.
Grandma, I remember the day I lost you. It was cold, but it was
Summer. 24th July 2011. You were 81 years old. But I don't
remember you aging a bit, to me you were just Grandma. My
favourite member of the family.
And now, I'm sitting here, on a cold December night,
wondering how you're doing. If you're thinking of me,
if you're looking down on us. Are you proud? Are you
disappointed? Every day I think of you.
I love you, Grandma.