The Day Grandma Left Us All.


A Poem

Grandma in her cloak, with Mum. Photo by Dad.

She was 95. No one was allowed into the room for those last moments of her life. We didn’t get to say goodbye.

95 years

And she has left us, the small lady has gone away.

She warned that this time would come, whispered she was tired, we clung to the hope she would revive

We waited patiently for some magic

Like a flower waiting for the slightest drop of rain, as if that’s all it would take for her glory to restore

The magic did not come

And now she is gone

She slipped out in the night, without a fuss, under the cloak of darkness
She always did look good in a cloak

Grandma and Grandpa on their wedding day, and honeymoon. We lost Grandpa many years ago, but Grandma always carried these photos with her.

And her departure has left a hole, how can that be filled? 
You can stuff it full of things but those are just that, things, and it doesn’t help to ease this feeling


There is no magic to replace hers, 95 years of vision, adventure, mischief, individuality; 95 years of enchantment and charisma

95 years.

The small lady could command the room, light it up. I still hear her laughter, feel the joy she brought, her warmth, her stories

I can see her wild, vivid in all her colours

And her smile

She would make friends with everyone. Giggling with the man on the train, reliving her youth, quizzing him on the area where she once lived

Her stubborn defence of the upside-down wallpaper in her kitchen, bizarre experimental cooking, her love for animals and nature

She would talk for hours about her birds in the garden, she would write to me sometimes. Who will look at her birds now? Who will study them and love them unconditionally, an extension of her family?

No one. There is a void, a numbness

Because she slipped out quietly in the night, without a fuss

And we didn’t get to say goodbye.

Outside ‘Parr’s Jewelers in Bangor with Dad. At my little Cousins wedding with my sister somewhere near Sussex. With Dad again outside their old house in Helens Bay, Northern Ireland. I feel very fortunate I got to visit the places they once lived and where my father grew up. Photo credits all from my family.
Grandma and Grandpa who will now be together again, photo by Dad.

Goodbye Grandma you will be so missed. Please give Grandpa and Auntie Hilary a big squeeze from us all down here.

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