I can’t believe that it is a year ago today since Gran Nora died.
Time seems to have zoomed passed over the last year and suddenly I am looking back and wondering where it has all gone. Time certainly is a healer and I no longer feel quite so keenly the loss of my lovely Gran. Of course, being on the mainland means that I can almost pretend she is still in Guernsey living in her hill-top house and sitting in her chair looking out at the sea. In reality I know that she is gone and the house has been sold.
I still have moments when I wish I could talk to her one last time, especially as the last time I saw her I was really drunk and I was trying to survive my sister’s wedding. On that day though I saw Gran at the church (before I was too drunk!) and I knelt on the floor next to her seat and rested my head in her lap and cried. She just stroked my hair and told me that she loved me. These days it is one of the most powerful images of my Gran that I can draw to mind and it still makes me cry.
Gran wasn’t a rolling around the floor, playing with her grandchildren sort of Gran, but, she was always interested, always wanted to know what was going on and would have done anything to make her children and grandchildren happy.
She loved playing Scrabble, even if she was really rather rubbish at the end and would fall asleep in the middle of her go whilst holding her letters in her hand. She would then make a jerky movement and spill all her letters into her skirt, before picking them up to do it all again.
I loved her for the fact that she would tell the same old war stories time and time again, but she seemed to have different grandchildren to tell certain stories too… like we all had our own bit of the jigsaw.
I can still see her in my head standing in her front porch and watering her geraniums, or sitting in her big comfy chair, looking out to sea and attempting to do The Times crossword.
I have a huge admiration for Gran Nora, for surviving the German occupation of Guernsey with her faith intact and an unshakable belief in a good and loving God. For the fact that she would have missionaries to stay in her house on a regular basis which meant we got to meet some interesting people, for the fact that she prayed for her family every day.
I wish she was still around, and I wish she’d had the chance to meet The Mister. She would have loved him. I know she would.
I still miss her so much.