Connie, my nan
Think I've opened a flood gate with my previous post and apologies for another long'un.

My other beautiful moment involves my Nan (Connie).

Nana was the only grandparent I ever knew and we sadly lost her wonderful personality with Alzeimers when I was about 10 years old where she was then looked after in the nursing home my dad ran. It would be when I was 22 when we would lose her completely.

My dad has an older and younger brother (Geoff/Phil), there was another younger brother called Bobby who didn't survive a meningitis infection when he was only a few years old. I freaked out a couple of members of the family when I started to grow an expression on my face, I was utterly like Bobby.

My nan had an oil painting of Bobby before he died above her chair for decades, it could well have been a painting of me. This similarity resulted in a unique connection with my nan, nothing could touch it. Where my parents would give up nan would step in and sort me in 0.2 seconds flat. I loved her to bits.

I was a coward for many years, I didn't see her in the nursing home despite it never being more than a 3 minute drive from my house. I couldn't see her like that, it hurt too much the first time and I know how much of a mistake it was now. Fortunately this was a mistake I would be presented with an opportunity to fix.

I lived in Brussels for several months in 2005 and the weekend I was home I was told she took a turn for the worst and my dad and uncles had gone to see her. As soon as I exited the taxi at my house I was in my car and there in 60 seconds.

When I arrived I ran upstairs and found her sons around her, everyone knew, my dad especially that this was the night she would leave us in body. She hadn't spoken in years and had a heart-breaking vacant expression for longer, the same expression that I was terrified of.

I joined the group and stayed with her for a short while before something quite magical happened, she looked up. She engaged eye contact with each of us, looking at her sons and me, no words, nothing spoken but contact was made. It was when she gazed at me that I realised how beautiful a moment it was, I was there not only for myself but for Bobby as well.

After she returned to her vacant state I had to leave, I barely made it back to my car as the tears were thundering out of my eyes. I later found out that she died as I was going down the stairs. Once I had driven round half the north west and returned home I settled and told the now-ex.

Her funeral included a beautiful eulogy by my youngest uncle, chronicling her selfless life, without her deceased husband, for her family until she was played out by Wind Beneath My Wings. Another beautiful moment, two for the price of one nana, good show.

Before moving out to Australia in June I had a nice long chat with her in the graveyard.


No length, just manly tears.
( blitheringidiot semi-lurker status achieved, many thanks, Fri 6 Aug 2010, 9:12, 2 replies)

*click* for a beautiful story
And as for the chat, I do the same at my Mum's grave, whenever I pass.
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 6 Aug 2010, 9:45, closed)

Many thanks
Wish I'd of known some of the others, I carry on my grandfathers names though which is nice
( blitheringidiot semi-lurker status achieved, many thanks, Fri 6 Aug 2010, 9:46, closed)