Historically VIVID Grandmother COMPLETE #ONC 2023

1. News we don't wanna hear

My Grandmother.

That typical title would be enough to put any child off. Mine is... was, my Nanna.

I remember the exact moment my sister Jules rang to tell me that my Nanna had been put into palliative care.

Three things happened simultaneously. My jaw dropped, I burst into tears and my body started to tremble.

I then called Uncle Michael to try and find out what was happening.
My brain seemed to have turned into a speeding carousal when my uncle said (and I quote); "Nanna is not good, but that they have made her comfortable and given pain relief."

I was sent an image Father had taken and I'm pretty sure my heart split in two at that precise moment.

So old and frail looking.

Last I had seen, Nanna was in a wheelchair and on a cruise with my uncle, his wife Danni and their daughter, my cousin Charlotte.

The tears were endless in those first few days.
It took 3 weeks of mood swings, crying at random times, and just a general air of depression.

I was diagnosed and medicated for Borderline Personality Disorder in 2007.
So the new emotions of grief were just that little bit overwhelming.
My husband, Adam, started to get frustrated with me but given I had never truly grieved a relative or loved one before, as an adult and that made it all that much harder.

My tears were an on-and-off thing, my emotions and moods were all over the place and the biggest underlying issue was depression.

Then both Father and Uncle Michael called and asked if I could be the one to head to her house and start sorting it.
Items to keep, items to throw out, items for the donation shop, and a pile of other bibs and bobs, because I was the closest relative and both of them had to go overseas.

And so I climb in my car, a luxury 4WD, and began the three-hour drive to Nanna's.

Once I make it to the highway, I can't help but notice all the things I'd never had the time to appreciate.
The trees, the flocks of birds flying in formation, the butterflies bouncing from flower to flower and the endless lines of traffic!

I live in a regional town, so driving up the Coastal roads, is a stunning drive. The ocean is viewable between the trees every couple of kilometres, with sand, sun, and sky, and massive trees over 80 years old dangling their long heavy leaves over the top of the road I am travelling.

I have my sing-a-long playlist on and the Pitch Perfect mix mash-up, from movie number three.

As my four-by flies down the highway, I'm singing at the top of my lungs along with my playlist.

My long chocolate locks are blowing in the wind, I have my windows down and I just try and get all the sad emotions out of my head.

I stopped just once for a bathroom/food and drink stop and also to add to my petrol tank.

Arriving at Nanna's house made my heart constrict painfully.
I realised and it hit me, I'm genuinely never going to see my Nanna again, never eat food together as a family nor share another celebration.

Tears stream down my face as all of those thoughts and emotions hit me with the weight of a freight train.

I cried in my car for so long, I didn't even notice the sun setting on the horizon, or the bright oranges, pinks and purples dotting the skyline.
The sky had darkened and stars were viewable in the night sky above my head before I noticed it was dark and should probably head inside.

Unlocking the old-wood heavy front door, a wave of nostalgia rolled through me.
This was the best part of my childhood, full of memories with my Nanna.

Stepping over the threshold, I couldn't help the way my eyes swept over the photos hanging on the wall, the pieces of furniture that I'd sat in so many times over the years, down to the retro kitchen where many meals had been cooked and served over the years.

The curtains in the kitchen with the faded little pieces of corn printed on were ever so slightly flapping in a gentle, cool breeze from the slightly ajar window.

The fluoro green benchtops of the '60s with bright orange doors and wallpaper in contrast, place-mats at the breakfast bar with glass cabinets overhead holding the day-to-day cups, plates and bowls.

Nanna's collectable spoons and plates mounted on display were enough to set my emotions off again, so I went into my childhood "guest bedroom" which was still full of items I'd collected and left over the years.

It was there that I collapsed onto the bed and curled up with my clothes still on and slept til morning, knowing that sifting through Nanna's life was going to be an amazingly difficult thing.