Sitting here and writing to you I know I am less than a week from my grandmothers funeral. I am dreading it. More than most and because of a multitude of reasons. To think that this time next week it will all be over and done with, all said and done, with only the memorial service to complete the mourning process. I know that no one ever looks forward to funerals, but this one will be especially fraught with emotions.
I recall the feeling on the morning of my Grandfather's funeral just over two years ago now almost to the day, waking up on the morning of the funeral in the flat Mr Warehouse and I shared, way before mortgages and new puppies were a thing. With the sunlight streaming through the gaps in the hedge outside, I just wanted to hide away and pretend that today was not happening at all, probably not helped by my rapidly deteriorating mental state at the time. I remembered with chills running along my arm hiding my head under the covers as Mr. Warehouse told me that this was a normal feeling and it would soon pass, something he had already been through several years earlier with his own Granddad whom he was very, very close with.
And now, all of that will come again only as with last time, there will be tension and anxiety riding high. I laugh to myself now as I write this to you, it seems that funerals, whilst are not the happiest of occasions, always seem to be dogged for me with huge anxieties and bouts of doubt and uncertainty about myself. And this time will be no different.
On a positive note, the COVID-19 Coronavirus pandemic following the strict social distancing measures introduced at the end of March, the daily death toll started to slow into April, before gradually starting to come down just before Easter. Today another 288 deaths were announced which marks the lowest daily figure since 29 March this year. Speaking at the government's daily news conference today the BBC reported that the deputy chief medical officer for England, said that it was now "very clear in the data that we are past the peak" which can only mean that we are somewhat of a step closer to all of this being over.
That being said however is a good thing as more people than originally thought are able to attend Nanna's funeral meaning it can be a bit more normal than planned. Another positive that this has brought about is how much closer I feel to Auntie DD (my mother's sister) and Uncle Golf. With both of them planning everything and sorting out her house I felt the need to try and support them and be with them as much as I can be at the distance of 2 metres of course. Phone calls every couple of days and catch-ups over WhatsApp really help to feel connected in a way. It's nice. Especially when things were so different and awkward throughout my parent's divorce and the earlier years of me being kicked out.
So much closer we have gotten, I had suggested doing something similar to my Granddad's funeral and donating or making a wreath from the grandchildren. Obviously, I included my brother, texting him last week to let him know of the plans and if he would like to be included he was more than welcome. Of course, he never replied, and of course, I will still put his name on it as he was and still is the grandson of the dearly departed. I only wish he could man up and just be apart of this. Along with this, my Auntie DD asked if I would like to say a few words at the graveside, moreso to pack it out and make it feel more than just a box and hole situation. I suggested something similar to funny tales and stories about my time with Nanna from myself and my cousin, and my brother too, as an anecdotal tonic to the harshness of the setting. However, after much care and consideration, I did not think that my cousin ould be up for talking, especially when it is so raw and fresh. I am hoping however we can put something together for her memorial ceremony and celebrate Nanna's life, rather than mourn for it.
But I still felt as though I wanted to say something. And so, with my wedding less than a handful of months away now, I turned to some of my fondest memories and stories about Nanna's very own love of her life, Granda. And therein lays my inspiration. It didn't take long, and in my mind, cannot be a more fitting tribute as a tale that will live on forever ...
Love can be found in all types of strange places. Some find it at
work in offices and warehouses, stealing kisses and cuddles in the canteen.
Some find it in pubs and clubs under the bright lights and heart-pounding
music. Some even find it online and in the future, who knows where my children
or grandchildren will meet their true love.
But sometimes you don’t find love, but moreso, it finds you. Sometimes
it can be closer to home than you think. When Granda went to stay with a family friend and her family
whilst he was working locally in a small Scottish village near the border
of England, never could he have imagined he would meet the love of his life.
After getting to know the family and the beautiful
but feisty young women that was Nanna, work took Granda elsewhere, but before
he had left he made certain that my Nana kept in touch. Several weeks passed when Nanna's very own Granny fell ill
and in her final few moments shared some wisdom that it would not be the last
time that my Nana and my Granda met. Sure enough, my Nanna started writing
to Granda and soon enough they were writing every week to one another and
over the week's their friendship turned to love and grew stronger with every
letter that the postie brought.
Just over a year after meeting, fate brought work for Granda back to
the Scottish borders and once more they reunited. But this time Granda had something
incredibly special he wanted to ask. After a wonderful day together my Granda
plucked up the courage and asked Nanna for her hand in marriage. But alas as the
wonderful news and exciting update was marred by the differing religious
backgrounds and beliefs of their families. Granda was Protestant and Nanna
was Catholic.
On hearing the news, Nanna's parents were less than happy for the
newly engaged couple and refused the relationship forcibly stopping it from
going any further. Several months later after multiple letters to Granda whilst
he was away working with no response Nanna went to go and meet him. Stepping
off the bus from a nearly thirty-mile round trip, every little feeling came
rushing back and lit a fire so bright it burned for decades. It was like they
had never been a part and without a moment to spare my Granda took my Nana by
the hand and they went to buy a ring.
Telling Nanna’s parents was not easy and after moving away to be
closer to her future husband she had upset her family greatly. So much so that
by the time their wedding rolled around a few weeks later, none of her family
turned up. Nanna was not walked down the aisle by her father and was not doted
on by her mother in the hours before the ceremony. Nanna dismissed the
traditional white dress and instead opted for a traditional shift suit with a
boxy coat all in traditional tartan. Every person present that day,
standing outside the Church in Oxford was from Granda's side of the family and
a handful of friends.
In the years that followed, the black and white wedding
photos were a placement in the many homes where they created and grew
their family, bickering and arguing all the way. But soon enough, there comes a
time for us all and even as Nanna raced to the hospital to be by her husbands’
side in his final moments on earth, she knew the exact moment he was gone. “It
was like I could hear his last breath” she used to tell me, reliving the tales
and stories she was so fond of telling over and over again.
For me, one thing is for certain. Once you have found that one
special person, there is very little that will pull you apart. No wedge that
can be placed between you. No tie that can severed. Like the blossoming of Wisteria,
you become not only enchanted and curious with each other but fascinated and infatuated,
love drunk, giddy with excitement and adventure. And then, before you know it,
your lives are so tightly intertwined you are but one beautiful soul with a bond
so strong, not even death can keep you apart.
It will be sad not to have you both there on my wedding day in a few
months’ time, watching from the sidelines as me and my husband take our first
few steps into married life and all that it brings. But I know you will be
there, somewhere in the faces as we take our vows and have our first dance. For
that is what I hope for. A love like no other. Mickey and Minnie. Romeo and Juliet.
My Nanna and Granda – A love story like no other and a tale to be told forevermore…
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
