Sprocket, Poppet, your Great Granny Anderson died this week.
And it's breaking my heart you won't remember her at all, and she never got to know you. You met her once, my Sprocket, when you were 13 months old. She loved seeing you, but she didn't have a clue who you were. Or who I was. But she always loved children. You tried to unwrap the chocolates we brought her, Sprocket. You were inside me, Poppet, so you were sort of there.
I wish you could see how mischievous her smile could be, how playful. How she giggled. Generally as she told some story of the mischief my dad, your Grandpa got up to as a kid. Tieing his cousins plaits to doorhandles, jumping across bonfires and falling in, tormenting his younger brother. How even when she was old, she still seemed so young at heart.
Granny died peacefully with her family around her and the minister praying. Her memory was long gone, and she hadn't really been eating for awhile. So it wasn't unexpected. But I'd always hoped she might live long enough we'd get to see her one more time. A selfish thought I know, but still.
The time she always looked back on was when her boys was growing up, and her house was full of life and stories. Three boisterous boys? I'd have been reaching for the tranquilizers - but she loved it and came out not only sane, but happy. She doted on her boys, and later all her grandkids and great grandkids.
I didn't know her as well as I wanted to - we live on one side of the globe and she lived on the other. She and Pappy came out to Australia a few times and we went back to Scotland when we could, which wasn't often. Distance is hard. It's easier now, with Skype and Internet, but back when I was small, distance was very hard. I'm not entirely sure she ever got over Dad immigrating.
Distance is still hard. I'm thinking of Dad now, stuck in East Timor, so far from family.
It's so difficult to believe you'll never get to know Granny, my little ones. That you'll miss out on so much.
She was so lovely just to be with and had such a warm heart.
She was greatly loving and greatly loved and if, when you die, people say the same my darlings, then you will have lived a good life.