My grandmother died; July 24, 2007
She lived at home with my parents and I. She was old, real old; 97 years old in fact. Like many old people something inside her decided that she had had enough and she died.
She stopped eating and refused to eat (except, like a true diabetic she would have a spoon full of ice-cream).
Gran had a petite frame when she was in her 20's and 40's and she was even smaller in her 80's and 90's but when she started to refuse to eat she shrank away even further. There are many things that I could say about her but none of those things matter anymore - you'll never meet her - the memories I have can't really be compressed into a blog post. And on some level they shouldn't.
What I am willing to tell you? Just a little about the few days after her death.
A trip up to Brisbane had been booked by my older sister, her husband and myself for the 30th birthday of my cousin. We were all going paint balling; it was going to be amazing! When Gran died Mum and Dad felt that the three of us should still head to Brisbane for the three days we had planned. That it would be good for us. Because if anything Gran wouldn't want us to be just sitting around doing nothing (one of her many catch phrases).
So we went.
I was on a different flight to the other two and so I flew into Brisbane two hours prior to them. Which really meant that I was waiting four hours to meet up with them when you include the waiting time at the Melbourne end too. Thankfully the two hours waiting time in Melbourne passed quickly as I had a 6am coffee and croissant and Mum waiting with me.
The two hours in Brisbane didn't pass that quickly at all. Sitting on a plane by yourself after someone has just died... well I don't recommend it (though large headphones so no-one talks to you helps tremendously).
In that time, while having no-one to talk to and not wishing to speak with a stranger, I did pull out a sketch book. Something I had only picked up by chance on my way out the door at 5am that morning.
I didn't know what I was sketching. But slowly my page started to resemble something more than just lines.
It was me. With a single tear rolling down my cheek. It was me.
By the time my older sister and her husband had arrived I had finished the sketch. I had also decided that I knew exactly HOW I would grieve the lose of Gran's life.
I would get a sticker made. And I would put that sticker ALL over Melbourne! And most likely any other city/country I go.
She lived at home with my parents and I. She was old, real old; 97 years old in fact. Like many old people something inside her decided that she had had enough and she died.
She stopped eating and refused to eat (except, like a true diabetic she would have a spoon full of ice-cream).
Gran had a petite frame when she was in her 20's and 40's and she was even smaller in her 80's and 90's but when she started to refuse to eat she shrank away even further. There are many things that I could say about her but none of those things matter anymore - you'll never meet her - the memories I have can't really be compressed into a blog post. And on some level they shouldn't.
What I am willing to tell you? Just a little about the few days after her death.
A trip up to Brisbane had been booked by my older sister, her husband and myself for the 30th birthday of my cousin. We were all going paint balling; it was going to be amazing! When Gran died Mum and Dad felt that the three of us should still head to Brisbane for the three days we had planned. That it would be good for us. Because if anything Gran wouldn't want us to be just sitting around doing nothing (one of her many catch phrases).
So we went.
I was on a different flight to the other two and so I flew into Brisbane two hours prior to them. Which really meant that I was waiting four hours to meet up with them when you include the waiting time at the Melbourne end too. Thankfully the two hours waiting time in Melbourne passed quickly as I had a 6am coffee and croissant and Mum waiting with me.
The two hours in Brisbane didn't pass that quickly at all. Sitting on a plane by yourself after someone has just died... well I don't recommend it (though large headphones so no-one talks to you helps tremendously).
In that time, while having no-one to talk to and not wishing to speak with a stranger, I did pull out a sketch book. Something I had only picked up by chance on my way out the door at 5am that morning.
I didn't know what I was sketching. But slowly my page started to resemble something more than just lines.
It was me. With a single tear rolling down my cheek. It was me.
By the time my older sister and her husband had arrived I had finished the sketch. I had also decided that I knew exactly HOW I would grieve the lose of Gran's life.
I would get a sticker made. And I would put that sticker ALL over Melbourne! And most likely any other city/country I go.
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