An unexpected post

I debated whether to write this, and then I debated whether to post it. Some things almost seem too personal for blogging. In the end, though, importance won out. At the end of the day, this is a blog about what is important to me. Mostly, that includes food and day-to-day trivialities. Sometimes, though, life creeps in.

And so, we have an unexpected post.

The reason? My paternal grandmother passed away yesterday.

This, in itself, wasn't entirely unexpected. She has had more health scares than I can count over the last 4 years or so, with many, many ambulance calls and hospital trips. She had a small stroke earlier this year, not long after celebrating her 90th birthday, and she transitioned from hospital to a nursing home after that stroke. Although she regained almost all functionality, it was getting clearer and clearer that her body was tiring out.

She had a larger stroke this last Saturday and never fully regained consciousness. She stopped breathing on Sunday afternoon.

I knew when leaving Victoria back in February, after visiting for the 90th birthday celebrations, that it may be the last time I saw her, or my 91-year-old grandfather. Despite this, the experience of death took me by surprise.

You see, in what I imagine is rare for someone in their mid (heading rapidly towards late...) 20's, prior to yesterday I had 4 grandparents, a full set of aunts and uncles, and no immediate friends who have died. Death isn't something that has affected people I know, or at least not those I have known directly. As I realise now, one-step-removed from death is very far removed.

It is odd, and disconcerting, and sad to think how quickly it occurs and how quickly things then change.

To think that she was alive on Saturday and not on Sunday. To think that my grandfather was a husband on Sunday morning and a widower on Sunday night. To think that my father had two parents living last week, and now has one.

I am, of course, grateful the experience came to me later than most. I was blessed to grow up with full sets of grandparents, and these ones, my Dad's, lived an hour from us until a few years ago. (At that point, the constant health scares and strain on my grandfather necessitated a move to a smaller house, and somewhere closer to one of their children. They elected to return to Victoria, where they raised their family and had more connections, and where they could still live in a small town, near my Dad's sister, rather than a city, where we are).

I am also aware that 90 is a grand age to reach, and leaving behind 4 children, 10 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren is pretty impressive.

But I am oh so conscious, this week, of how quickly things can change. The people I care about are suddenly more precious as a result. I realise, as I didn't fully realise before, that they could disappear at any time.

I also realise that what we leave behind when we go is limited, mostly, to the memories others hold.

For my Gran, I offer these ones. And thanks.

For looking after me whilst my brother was born, and taking me to my first day of kindergarten. 

For looking after me and my brother whilst my sister was born.

For having toys and children's books specifically for us, in a cupboard in your house.

For pikelets. Date slice. Chocolate chip biscuits that sometimes had ginger.

(I didn't like the ginger. But I liked the cookies a lot when the ginger was missing. It was a risky game, reaching for those biscuits.)

For making us clothes when were were young.

For teaching me and my sister how to make meringues.

For hiding Easter eggs in your garden for when we visited on Easter Sunday.

For picnics.

For looking after our childhood cat when we went on holiday.
And for feeding the cat liver, which meant he didn't want to come home.

For showing me that a marriage can still be cherished after 60 years.

For confirming that stubbornness is a family trait.

(I have it too.)

For showing me that even when you're stubborn, sometimes the body has had enough.

Rest in peace.

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