R.I.P. Grandma

     It's funny how life can throw you a curveball. From the joy of getting B.A. on Thursday came the devastation and shock of a family bereavement yesterday. At 88 my Grandma was certainly no spring chicken but she was fitter than most thirty year olds I know. She still lived in her own bungalow, still got herself out and about when she wanted, still lived a completely full life. My mum went up to visit her yesterday and on the off chance I said I'd go with her. I needed to get out of the house and I really wanted to see my Grandma. When we got there the smoke alarm was going off and the house was filled with smoke where my Grandma had left something slow cooking on the stove. There wasn't any fire, just the remnants of her lunch smouldering away in the pan. My Grandma was laid on the kitchen floor where she's fallen. I called an ambulance whilst my mum checked for a pulse and it was soon apparent that she'd been gone for a couple of hours. We think (although we can't be sure until the post mortem) that she died as a result of a massive stroke. She looked peaceful and she hadn't moved once she'd hit the floor. There wasn't any sign of her bumping her head so we think that she was dead before she hit the floor. Considering how fit she was it is a shock and has hit the whole family really hard. We honestly thought she'd go on forever but I do believe that some people are like that. Despite the shock, if it was a sudden death like we think it was, it would've been the way she'd have wanted to go. She wouldn't have wanted to die in hospital and would've hated being in a nursing home. As it was she passed away in her own home and in her favourite room in that home, the kitchen. She was always baking and her pastry was the best I ever tasted. Her lemon curd tarts in particular will live long in the memory. She was also found by family, her daughter and one of her grand daughters. She wouldn't have wanted to have been found by strangers.

     When I think about my Grandma I think about her bluntness and about her straightforward nature. She was never someone who cried in public, preferring instead to weep in solace. She loved her family and was one of my greatest supporters in terms of my transition. One particular story I can remember is when I was at primary school. We had to grown beans in a jar and I gave mine to my Grandma and Granddad to grow. Weeks later, when the project had been forgotten about it, my Grandma turned up at the Primary School, outside my classroom complete with this four foot bean plant she'd grown! Embarrassed was not the word! I can also remember the long walks she used to take us on through the countryside and the summer holiday trips to Gulliver's Kingdom. She was full of life, right up until the end and despite her small stature, she'll leave a huge whole in the lives of all who knew her, especially in the lives of her daughter and son-in-law, her five grandchildren and her eight great-grandchildren!

     I'm going to finish this post with a poem that she liked and which will be read at her funeral.

SHE IS GONE

You can shed a tear that she is gone

Or you can smile because she has lived

 

You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back

Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left

 

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her

Or you can be full of the love you shared

 

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday

 

You can remember her and only that she's gone

Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on

 

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on