She Promised She'd Come Back

At age 15 I had moved in with my Nan to help her around the house, cook meals and other bits and bobs. She was 56. I never really knew what was wrong with her medically then, but I knew she needed me, so I was there. I lived there for a year, and then stayed on weekends and holidays and visited every day after I eventually went home. My Nan was then diagnosed with cancer, lung and lymph nodes. She was so ashamed to leave the house with her oxygen in the little village she grew up in, she moved about an hour away. She was so much happy pottering around in her little bungalow. 6 weeks later she was taken home to die.

I visited all the time before she got very sick, but this journey up north felt different, it felt like I was driving right into the black clouds, rain and thunder. I was terrified. I walked into my Nans bedroom where she lay on the bed, eyes wide and plucking the air with her fingers. I ran out, I couldn’t handle that. How could this strong, fierce, kind, fair, compassionate person be so close to the end of life right in front of me? My mind could not, and would not process what was happening. I had to at least say goodbye, I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t. I sat with her, she picked my nail varnish off, I told her I loved her, she said she loved me. I began to tell her how brave she was, and she told me to be quiet. She wiped my tears and I sat with her until the end was near, and she only wanted her children beside her in the last moments.

I drove home in a daze. I got the phone call at 10am the next morning. I broke again. My Nan promised she’d look out for me when she was gone, and that I would feel her with me. At my weakest, I felt nothing. I was so over come with grief I felt nothing. No pain, no happiness, just darkness and black. The tablets began to help and I began to find positive ways to deal with my grief. I saw a grief counsellor, she helped me realise that I need to let go of any anger. I started going to my Nans grave and chatting away to her, whether she could hear it or not. I talked, my god did I talk, to anyone and everyone who would listen about how strong my Nan was. I started to feel happiness. Happiness that she had lived, blessed that I had known her for the short time I did. And now, I feel her around me every single day.