It’s been a tough few days – my lovely Nana passed away last Thursday night. It wasn’t a huge shock – we knew from St Patrick’s Day that she was very very sick, and that things weren’t good. But no matter how prepared you think you are for these things, it’s still a horrendous shock when it actually happens.
Especially as she’d tricked us twice already – it looked like she was going to go on the previous Saturday, and then again on the Tuesday. (As I kept on muttering, “and she says she’s not stubborn!”)
But we think she knew what she was doing at the end – she died on my uncle B’s birthday, thus ensuring that (a) none of us will ever forget the date and (b) he’ll never be alone on his birthday. And my Uncle N was on the night shift with her that night - he was the Golden Boy, we used tease her that whenever he visited there would always be an apple tart baked, and the good milk jug would be out, along with the sugar bowl! And then we buried her on Mother’s Day, and two days later (yesterday) was my Grandad’s 23rd anniversary.
Nana lived in the house next door to us, and her house is as much as home to me as my own is. I can’t even put into words how huge a loss this is.
All I can say is that I love her and will miss her heaps.