My Grandma: The biggest impact

I walked into the room, heart pounding and mouth dry.  The bright lights hurting my eyes as I walked down the corridor.  I turned right down another long hallway.  Each step becoming harder than the one before.  My legs felt like jelly.  My head was buzzing and I felt dizzy and sick.  Eventually I saw Ward 9, I turned right and pulled open the heavy wooden door.  I squirted on some antibacterial hand gel and rubbed it into my hands whilst walking towards the nurses desk.  I cleared my throat and asked her where she was.  I was directed down towards the end of the ward into the last room.  There she lay in the bed, looking so tiny.  Much smaller than usual.  Her curly grey hair still looking perfect.  She knew someone was there but she did nt know who it was as her eyes were severely affected by cataracts. I walked over to the bed, took her hand and said “Hello Grandma”.  “Hello love” she managed. She knew who I was.  My grandma and I had a close relationship.  I sat next to her and stroked her hair.  I tried to speak to her without letting her know how upset I was.  The nurse came in and I asked her how she had been over night.  “She has been quite stable” she said.  “She looks much better today” I said, trying to be optimistic.  The nurse smiled at me but said nothing, and then carried about her business.  I kissed my grandma on the cheek and said “I will see you later grandma, I will be back later, I promise.”  “OK” she croaked whilst managing a smile and nodding slowly.

I walked out of the ward with the intention of going to the canteen for a cup of coffee.  I was tired.  I had not had much sleep as I had been worried about my grandma.  I reached a chair in one of the corridors and decided to sit down. I began thinking of all the things we had done together.  The holidays we had been on. The time in Ibiza when she sat on a wall with white trousers on and when she stood up they were red, she was covered in ants!

As a child I often stayed with her on a weekend.  I loved going. I loved walking her dog, Snowy, up and down the cobbled back street. The same street my uncle, (only 9 years older than me, he was the youngest of her children), had taught me to ride a bike on an adult full sized BMX when aged only 8 years old.  I could not even touch the floor and had to balance the bike against the wall to climb on!  In school holidays I remember being looked after by my grandma with my siblings and cousins.  My Grandma’s cooking was the best, macaroni cheese and homemade chips was my favourite.

I used to sit on the sofa in her living room and watch TV, all snuggled up with her woolen Scottish tartan blanket. One time I was laid on the floor in front of the hot fire watching my favourite TV program after school, my grandma downstairs cooking tea.  All of a sudden a little white mouse ran across the front of me from behind her glass cabinet which stored all her trinkets and ornaments bought for her over the years by her children and grandchildren. I remember thinking it was cute, but I screamed anyway. I remember grandma telling me not to be scared and to think how scared the poor little mouse was seeing me on the floor, as I was a lot bigger than the mouse! That made me laugh.

Every Christmas day was spent at grandma’s with all my aunts, uncles and cousins.  One year all 11 grandchildren lined up and we sang “Grandma we love you”.

A more recent memory of 5 or 6 years before floated back, when grandma has made me a royal blue and bottle green tartan pinafore dress.  I remember being stood in her front room whilst trying on my new dress.  Her laughing at me when I said I had ‘boobies’ telling me they were like ‘fried eggs’.  I was only 12, and my grandma was a 40DD bra size.  I can see now why she found it so funny.

She was how grandmas are supposed to be.  She made and repaired things, clothes etc, she cooked and she cleaned, she treated us to presents and fed us lots of biscuits and cakes.  My grandma was from Scotland but she was far from the stereotype of being stingy with money,  she was the exact opposite, and in fact the most generous person I knew.

Just then my mobile rang. It was my uncle asking me to go back to the ward as the doctor wanted to speak with me. When I arrived, I was lead into a side room and I sat down on one of the chairs.  My uncle was there, he looked at me and instead of talking he began to cry.  I had never seen my uncle cry before.  It was hard to see, a 6 ft 4 inch stocky man, eyes red from the tears, looking heart broken.  I looked at the floor and said “has she gone?” “No, but she is not well”. Managed my uncle, at that point he broke down again.  “We have tried to give her another blood transfusion but nothing is working for her any more.  I am sorry but it is only a matter of time now.”  I stared at the doctor as the words fell out of his mouth, like lead to the floor.  Each word washing over me, but it did not really sink in. All I could think was ‘that’s it, she is going.’  I dropped to my knees and I cried, harder than I had ever cried before. Even when my mum and dad divorced, I do not remember crying so hard. heart ached, I felt like my world was falling apart around me.  My grandma was like a second mum to me.  In fact I told my grandma things I could not speak to my mum about.  My grandma had looked after my first child, which I had when I was only 17.  My grandma never judged me, she did nothing but support me.  She took me and my son on trips with her Pensioners Club to the seaside.  My son adored her, he used to help her do the gardening and loved hanging the washing out on the line with her, she made it fun. She even played football with him in the garden, despite her having a double hip replacement only a couple of years previously.  She was one person that my son would do absolutely anything for.

I stopped crying and wiped away the tears. “I want to see her.” I said as I walked out of the side room and into hers.  My grandma was laid in bed asleep.  “Hi grandma” I said.  “Hello dear” she managed quietly.  A tear ran down my cheek.  “Are you ok?” I said.  She nodded and smiled.  I sat next to her, perched on the bed and held her hand. “I love you grandma” I said.  “I love you too.” She replied.  I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead and said “I’ll see you again soon grandma.” She looked in my direction, but I know she would nt have been able to see my face because of her cataracts, but she stared in my direction, smiled at me and said “yes”.  The doctor had n’t said anything to her, but I knew she could tell that this was the last time we were to see each other, in this life time.  I hugged her tight and kissed her again on the cheek and with that I let go of her hand, I turned and began to walk away.  Tears streaming down my face I turned to look at her one last time. She had closed her eyes and looked peaceful with a smile on her face.  I smiled back and whispered “love you grandma, I will see you again.” At that moment I thought in my head ‘Please angels take good care of her, she is so precious.’

I turned and walked down the corridor.  As I reached the door I heard the nurses rushing, I turned around and saw them heading towards the end room. I knew that was it, she was gone.  I walked out of the hospital and sat in my car. I held between my palms the little reindeer broach my grandma had given to me, just before she had gone into hospital. That was 6 years ago.  I still speak to her on a daily basis and keep that reindeer close.  To anyone else that reindeer is nt worth anything else, it is nt made from gold or any other precious metal, but it was my grandmother’s. I had bought it for her one Christmas when I was 11 years old with my pocket money from the local market.  She had kept it all those years, until I was 27.  That meant so much to me.  I will always have a bond with my grandma and even though physically she is not here, I know she is around.

My final tribute to grandma was the song I chose for her funeral. “Grandma we love you” by St Winifred’s Choir. That seemed like the only choice for me.

“One day grandma I will see you again, that day will be when the angels are also looking after me. But until then I will keep close to me the only thing I have left, our memories.”

We are not alone

angel wing feather

 

I was raised as a catholic, whilst I was interested in religion I did not always agree with everything which I was being taught.  Even at a young age I questioned some of the teachings.  One thing I was always drawn to was angels.  My awareness was heightened when I was about 13 years old, I was sat in my History Class and my teacher, a woman in her 40’s showed the class a picture which had been drawn specifically for her of her guardian angel.  She began to explain that she had been told that everyone has at least one guardian angel and if we ever need them, all we have to do is ask.

A few years passed and I began reading books about angels and found bits and pieces of information on the internet.  The funny thing was I never bought any books, they were always lent to me by friends-whom at this point did not even know of my interest.  Whilst I was surfing the internet it was as if the information was put in front of my through a related article or link.  I found it all very interesting and I particularly enjoyed the stories of how people had been saved or helped by angels in their time of need.

An important point in my life was the passing of my grandma.  My grandma was a truly inspiration woman and I had so much respect for her.  She raised a family of 7 children whilst working, maintaining a home.  Most of her life was plagued with illness but she did her best to carry on regardless.  She was a loving and fabulous grandmother and great-grandmother.  Shortly after her passing I went to see a medium to see if I would get a message for her.  Whilst I was in the waiting room I was looking at the crystals and things on display.  Immediately I was drawn to some angel cards. I had never seen them before and the it felt like a sign for me to get some as the name on the cards was ‘Doreen Virtue’.  At this time I was not aware of who she was but my grandma’s name was Doreen so whether you agree or not for me it was a strong link as there were no other type of cards there and since doing a bit of research there are loads more on the market by other people.

I bought some daily guidance cards and began using them on a regular basis, especially when I feel at a cross roads.  I regularly see a single pure white feather floating past my window, usually when I am thinking about my grandma or if I am having a difficult time.  It immediately cheers me up as I believe it is a sign not to worry as everything will be ok.  Sometimes when I am in a rush I ask the angels for help in finding something or even for a parking space, and just like a miracle the things immediately turn up or there is a space right where I imagined it!

Recently one of my children was involved in a serious road traffic accident.  As soon as I received the call and I was running down to the accident scene in my head I asked the angels to let him be ok and to be awake when I go there.  He was lucky to escape with the injuries he did, but he still suffered from two broken femurs.  However this was better than what was first expected-internal injuries, broken pelvis and head injuries. The time we spent in the trauma unit whilst he was stabilised was sickening but the whole time I knew he would be ok.  All the medical staff commented how lucky he was to still be with us and to have ‘got away’ with these injuries.

Thank you to my angels, I know you are there and for that reason I know I am never alone.  Support does nt need to be physical, you just need to believe.

angel

Image

Nelson Mandela

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelson_Mandela

Nelson Mandela

Thursday 5th December 2013, RIP to a peace warrior, an inspiration to many. When I heard the breaking news last night I felt genuine sadness within my heart. Even my 14 year old son telephoned me in shock, genuinely saddened by his passing. This goes to show what an impact this man had on people of all ages. Some say in his passing a light has gone out but I believe he has returned home and from there his light will shine brighter. Rest in Peace Nelson Mandela. You will not be forgotten.