The end of an era

Last Tuesday my grandmother passed away. She had been in hospital for the last three weeks already after major surgery but it all still happened rather quickly.

My mum was supposed to come to London on Tuesday. In the days before, however, it was starting to become apparent that my grandmother was not making the kind of recovery that was expected. She wasn't eating anymore and was getting weaker by the day. On Sunday evening my mum decided that it would not be wise to go and leave her. When we spoke on Monday evening it was clear there was little hope left and on Tuesday morning she died. My mum, uncle and grandfather were all there by her side. The hardest thing about living abroad is not being able to be there for your family or friends when they need you. Thankfully, London is not too far and I managed to get a flight home that same day. The cremation service was this Saturday. It was a beautiful, dignified farewell to the special, proud and, at times, also very complicated woman that my grandmother was.

My grandmother was the last of my 'real' grandparents. My father's parents passed away a long time ago. I have only a few memories of my grandmother from that side of the family and my grandfather I remember mostly as an old man sitting in his armchair, smoking his pipe. My mother's father died before my brother was even born so unfortunately I have no memories of him at all; just stories. I do still have a grandfather. My grandmother remarried after her divorce and although we don't share any genes, I consider her second husband my grandfather for all intents and purposes. But of course he can't fill in all of the blanks in our family history. That link to my past is gone now. Of course, one never asks these questions while we still can anyway. It's only when the line breaks that you realise how much you don't know.

My grandmother was 87; a good age. An age where you have to accept that's how life goes and that maybe she's had her fair innings. That doesn't make it any less sad for those left behind though. My 96 (!) year old grandfather will have to find a new way to fill his days now that he can't squabble with her all day long anymore. My mum and uncle have lost their last remaining parent and are left having to sort through a lifetime of memorabilia.