For context, on the 7th of February my Nana (grandmother) passed away. At her funeral I read a letter I wrote to Nana called dear Nana.
This is further on from that.
Dear Nana,
What a weird 3 weeks it has been. I know in the letter I read at your funeral I said about how things started to feel real that you had passed, but it seems my brain isn't ready to let me realise you're no longer here, yet. I more and more often think "I'll call Nana" and then realise I can't.
It doesn't feel real. The feeling is, numbness. I laughed with everyone in the funeral car at how we used to drive to other funerals and you'd say "I wonder who is next", do you remember? Ha! I remember at aunty marjories funeral you spent ages telling maureen it was going to be her after you, but then I think there was another man there who was older, so you said "oh well, you're next then".
Today on the phone they said they're collecting your ashes and mum agreed that we would collect you on Monday. Do you watch us and feel scared like me? If I'm honest I'm shitting myself because I'm about to see a box, and that's you, that's all that remains. I'm scared that this is when my brain tells me, that's you inside it and that you're not sat at home, in your chair, waiting for me to call.
You probably heard the water company, saying that someone else has moved into your flat, they didn't hang around did they! But I suppose you wouldn't be offended by that, I think you'd try and make the point that life goes on.
Thing is, life does go on and day by day we will learn to live without you being here in the physical sense. I hope you're listening to us when we talk to you.
I hope you know that I am sorry. I'm stuffed with guilt that for those weeks you were in hospital I told you over and over that you were coming home. I spent night after night on the phone to suny and we both agreed that you'd nail this, that you'd be home in what would seem like no time. I feel like I lied to you, that I should have said to you that if you didn't come home that would be ok, but I didn't, I couldn't. By the time we were told that they were ending your active care, it's as if you weren't really there anymore. I remember seeing you on that Wednesday morning and how shocked I was to see you trying to climb out the bed to take yourself to the toilet. You looked at me as I tried to get you back in the bed, as I hit that call button for the nurses and while I was maybe calm to you, I was shaking with anger that you had been left to get into that state.
I remember your freak out. I remember that the last thing you said about me was in your freak out and you screamed "Kevin wouldn't hurt me, he wouldn't hurt me" and you know, as scary as that freak out was, seeing you so distressed, it still warms my heart to know that deep down you knew I had your back, that I'd never let any harm come to you and that I love you. I also know, you love me too.
I know you'd be sorry for the way you were, do you remember that Thursday in that little room, we told you all the things you had been saying to us while you had been in hospital. You laughed, we laughed, you rolled your eyes and said "did I really say all that?". That Thursday was beautiful, I felt like I had my Nana back and I was so happy, I didn't know that we were then into our final week with you.
Did you see me recording that video last night? I couldn't help but get upset and you're the one person I wish I could hug and hold. I know I can't though. Just please show me a sign that you forgive me, I didn't know you'd not come home, I honestly thought you could have done this, but I understand that your body had had enough. You honestly never gave up the fight.
I hate so much that you have left us, I really do, but I know that it was your time. I know it was the best thing for you and that you'd have been glad we were there when you left us. They said that the ears still work for a few moments after a person dies, which is why I had to say "thank you for everything", it's all I could think to say apart from "go in peace".
I don't think I'll ever stop missing you. Did you see that price list of the plaque and all that? I could hear your voice in my head going "how much???" followed by you telling us not to waste money like that.
I love you Nana. I hope you're reading this and I don't want to stop typing. Here come the tears!
I can't think of how to close this, but just know I love you and everyone here loves you. I'll speak to you soon, goodnight Nana xxxxx
