(Note: As written, at the time. Present tense.)
December 26th, 2004. It's 11:30pm on a Monday night... Tuesday is drawing near, and I am hooped from what was a horrendously hectic, wild day. I'm asskicked tired, and my body aches... even though the holidays are done and over with, the aftershock is still heavy within the place that I work at. It's all going to be repeated tomorrow.. I know that I should go to bed now, and rest up.. but I've been thinking a lot. As of yesterday, it has been nearly the sixth year since my paternal grandmother's death. On December 26th, of 1998, Nanny Lorna passed away quite suddenly. she held on, just for Christmas... and she left us. I remember the day quite vividly, when I found out...
I stayed at my friend Ashley's that night... carefree, and pumped that Christmas had come and gone. What was a night of laughter and fun couldn't have thrown me for such a loop. I had no idea that someone so dear to me had passed away... there was no sign, no word, no hint.. until the day after. While I respect my family's decision not to tell me while I was at a friend's house, it could be said that I felt something that day. I remember, to a degree, the dream I had that night while I was at Ashley's.. prior to the afternoon when I would ultimately hear about my grandmother's passing. I had dreamt that I swimming in a pool... Ashley's pool, specifically. There was nothing strange or unusual about the dream.... not that I can remember, but I was swimming. The sun was warm, the water clear, and nothing symied my wade in the water. What I DO remember, the morning after I had awoken.. is Yvonne --- Ashley's mother --- answering the phone. I was downstairs at the time, giggling away with my best friend... but there was no laughter from the conversation upstairs. Nothing of the sort... I heard no details about it, but the mood was stagnant and solemn in Ashley's kitchen, afterwards. I could have sworn that Ashley's parents had a sorrowful glint in their eyes, as they watched me act so carefree with their daughter.
It struck me as odd that they would drop me off at home, early that afternoon. Normally, I wouldn't be dropped off until sometime in the evening... but there was a false air of contentment, on the way back. I lived on Williams lane, at the time, in that big old house. When I got home, it was terribly silent... my brother was nowhere to be found, and my mother sat in the living room. The MOMENT she had seen me, she hugged me and begin to cry... telling me that nanny Lorna had passed away last night. Truth be told, I didn't believe her at first... the shock hit me a minute later, and I had to sit down... I cried, needless to say. I felt nothing in my body but weakness, and the need to just.. cry as hard as I could. I would later find my brother having a similar reaction, as he was holed up in his room and fighting with the realization that someone who was dear to us was now gone. The subsequent days would be heartbreaking... I remember the funeral, I remember seeing Dad and my uncles dressed up and looking as solemn as the Christ statue in St. Michael's. I did not go to witness the burial, knowing how hard it would be... and I would still be feeling the loss for nanny Lorna, even when my grandfather Wilfred would leave us that subsequent February.
These nostalgic thoughts leave me to feel some familiar regret. Regret over the times where.. oh, say, I would tell nanny Lorna that I was too tired to visit. That, or I would turn onto Larch Street as I walked home from school, instead of turning straight upwards to walk up to the residential homes where her final months were spent... just to say hello. Now, more than ever, I begin to realize that I should've spent more time with my grandmother... and while I love her so dearly, I'm STILL finding out things about her. Long after her passing... things that I never knew while she was alive, and things that shock me at times, too. There was a big, big story behind that fragile woman with the stretched phone cords and the worrisome personality. I remember how she would call ten times a day, just to see if we had enough money.. food... how she would offer a glass of pop to you numerous times, before you HAD to accept it. I remember how she would ALWAYS ask me if the oven was on, tell me NOT to use it on my own --- even though I was nearly fourteen and perfectly capable of operating it. I remember how she would prepare to take a taxi to the house at like.. two in the morning, if she knew that Kris and I were alone. How she would stuff us full of Quality street chocolates, Chunky soup, and anything else that we could've hoped to ask for.
In short, nanny Lorna was a very giving woman... but it was perhaps her worry, and loneliness that hurt her. One of the most profound memories of her lies in the moment when she found out about Nolan's birth. I remember going to her (new) home, one time, and listened to her gush about my new baby brother... how utterly HAPPY she was. It was amazing, truth be told... and saddening, to know she would leave us not too long after Nolan's birth. The love that she held for all of us was remarkable and unconditional... I'll never forget the way that woman cared for us, individually.. how happy she would be to just... /be/ there. More than ever, I wish she could've taken those taxis, or phoned again --- despite her hundreds of calls a week. :)
I miss her. I wonder how she would have reacted, had she known I would be leaving for British Columbia. Perhaps it would have hurt her... and I KNOW she would have objected. But is she proud of me, up there? Of Kris? Nolan? Brianna...? ALL of us...? Does she watch over us often? I know she does, but I still think about her... not only on the anniversary of her death, but whenever I can. Does she worry about some of the things I do, to this day...? Know that the 'runt of the litter' has grown up, found a wonderful boyfriend and is thus walking further into life? Nanny is in my prayers... and my memories, overall. I see some of her in my own reflection, more than ever... not only physically, but in my personality. I want to give more, as well... and while I will not repeat some of the mistakes that such a dear woman made --- in the form of worrying TOO much --- I'd like to emulate some of her many good points. It's been a while, Nanny.. I won't forget you. I'm tired, right now... it's been such a horrendously difficult month... and I ask that you walk with me awhile. I'm still your 'bubsy', and I love you. When I come home this summer, I'll visit.. and bring some flowers, with many stories.
Already, another year has passed.
Addendum: In July, 2005, I made it to my grandmother's gravesite as planned. I sat by her for a while, reflected, and found peace. There was also forgiveness that I had found, regarding the past regrets that were mentioned in this vignette... she is truly a woman that I will never forget, and whose good points I will strive to emulate in my life, as she had tried, so fervently, to teach me. Even if it meant calling, ten times a day. :)
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