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As time goes by.
I got a text message from my mother this evening. My Nana cut out mentally at the supermarket today - just floated away into la la land whilst standing in an aisle with her walker. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last, but it's probably the worst so far. Mum, watching her, actually saw her float back into the real world, just by the expression on her face. Nana's felt for a long time that something's not right in her brain, and indeed she's been diagnosed as having transient ischemic attacks*. I've heard her say myself that she's getting tired. Which is never a good sign.
She's suffering from a lot of health problems, and her world is very small these days. Just my mother, the news from various family members. The television. Her neighbours in the assisted living facility she's in. The only family nearby is my mother; the next nearest is me, three hundred kilometres away. We grandchildren all try to keep in touch, but we have our own lives, our own families too.
She likes Tobermory. Never liked Cyclenut much, but Tobermory she approves of. She doesn't like that we live together before marriage, of course; it's not just religion, but that's just not how things were done in her day. But she likes him. Sees that I'm happy with him. And of course he's a tie back to the England she misses. When they first met, Tobermory did her the courtesy of letting her talk about England with him. I don't think I got a word in edgewise, except possibly Hello. She misses her sisters cruelly in her old age; one of her closest sisters died, fairly recently, and Nana was distraught.
She's past 80 now. I really don't think she'll be with us much longer. In a way, I can't be sad. Not that I won't miss my grandmother; but Nana as she is today isn't Nana as I remember her. Not the grandmother who'd laugh over games of cards, and make up dirty words playing Scrabble with my mother and aunt until they all laughed so hard there was a three woman rush on two toilets; inevitably leading to a scrap between Mum and my auntie, with the one who laughed hardest falling over and losing the race to the loo. The Nana who would surreptitiously top up the sweetie jar with the favourite candy of the next visiting grandchild, and never comment when it mysteriously emptied itself. She wasn't one for giving toys, knowing that she wasn't really in touch with what modern children liked, but she'd always make sure we could buy ourselves something nice on special occasions. For that matter, she still regularly gives little presents of money to all her children and grandchildren. Gives us twenty for gas when we visit.
She's not perfect, of course, never has been. There's a bit of a family trait to deal with emotions badly, and Nana has that. Well, shared it with us. She doesn't handle stress well. And yet, she bought up one of my cousins when my aunt couldn't cope. And I remember her telling me that she and Grandad fought quite bitterly on a few occasions. She's struggled to keep up with the times, and it can be frustrating, the complete disconnect from reality she has, especially when it leads her to be quite selfish. Unaware of the time and work constraints we are forced into, unaware of the reality of finances today. But everyone has their own foibles. And maybe I'm too young to have noticed the really bad points.
Maybe I'm wearing the proverbial rose spectacles; but I don't remember Nana as anything but generous. She brought up my grandfather's daughter by his first wife**, and treated her like her own. My step aunt still has an equal share in my grandmother's will. Well, technically her heirs do, as my aunt passed away (cancer) a few years ago now.
Some years ago, she gave away some of the jewellery she no longer wore. It was fairly evenly shared amongst various daughters and granddaughters. I was given a bead necklace, and a gorgeous gold/garnet necklace. I don't wear it often - it's a bit ornate for my taste, but lovely. I also have a little bag she used to take dancing with her. It's on a silver chain, with her name and phone number (five digits) written inside.
She and Granddad loved to dance. In Granddad's Army days, they taught the younger soldiers in the camps. They danced, and Granddad played the clarinet and saxophone; Mum remembers a jazz band that used to rehearse in their lounge. I still remember Granddad singing while Mum played piano, with Nana humming along out of tune. She still plays the old records, all the wartime music. Jazz. Watches black and white films.
My grandfather has been dead fifteen years, now. It's a long time to be alone.
* They are either stroke precursors, or mini-strokes, depending on who you ask. Regardless of who you ask, it's not a good thing.
** Grandad's first wife had a child by another man during WWII. When he went back to England, they divorced, apparently amicably.
She's suffering from a lot of health problems, and her world is very small these days. Just my mother, the news from various family members. The television. Her neighbours in the assisted living facility she's in. The only family nearby is my mother; the next nearest is me, three hundred kilometres away. We grandchildren all try to keep in touch, but we have our own lives, our own families too.
She likes Tobermory. Never liked Cyclenut much, but Tobermory she approves of. She doesn't like that we live together before marriage, of course; it's not just religion, but that's just not how things were done in her day. But she likes him. Sees that I'm happy with him. And of course he's a tie back to the England she misses. When they first met, Tobermory did her the courtesy of letting her talk about England with him. I don't think I got a word in edgewise, except possibly Hello. She misses her sisters cruelly in her old age; one of her closest sisters died, fairly recently, and Nana was distraught.
She's past 80 now. I really don't think she'll be with us much longer. In a way, I can't be sad. Not that I won't miss my grandmother; but Nana as she is today isn't Nana as I remember her. Not the grandmother who'd laugh over games of cards, and make up dirty words playing Scrabble with my mother and aunt until they all laughed so hard there was a three woman rush on two toilets; inevitably leading to a scrap between Mum and my auntie, with the one who laughed hardest falling over and losing the race to the loo. The Nana who would surreptitiously top up the sweetie jar with the favourite candy of the next visiting grandchild, and never comment when it mysteriously emptied itself. She wasn't one for giving toys, knowing that she wasn't really in touch with what modern children liked, but she'd always make sure we could buy ourselves something nice on special occasions. For that matter, she still regularly gives little presents of money to all her children and grandchildren. Gives us twenty for gas when we visit.
She's not perfect, of course, never has been. There's a bit of a family trait to deal with emotions badly, and Nana has that. Well, shared it with us. She doesn't handle stress well. And yet, she bought up one of my cousins when my aunt couldn't cope. And I remember her telling me that she and Grandad fought quite bitterly on a few occasions. She's struggled to keep up with the times, and it can be frustrating, the complete disconnect from reality she has, especially when it leads her to be quite selfish. Unaware of the time and work constraints we are forced into, unaware of the reality of finances today. But everyone has their own foibles. And maybe I'm too young to have noticed the really bad points.
Maybe I'm wearing the proverbial rose spectacles; but I don't remember Nana as anything but generous. She brought up my grandfather's daughter by his first wife**, and treated her like her own. My step aunt still has an equal share in my grandmother's will. Well, technically her heirs do, as my aunt passed away (cancer) a few years ago now.
Some years ago, she gave away some of the jewellery she no longer wore. It was fairly evenly shared amongst various daughters and granddaughters. I was given a bead necklace, and a gorgeous gold/garnet necklace. I don't wear it often - it's a bit ornate for my taste, but lovely. I also have a little bag she used to take dancing with her. It's on a silver chain, with her name and phone number (five digits) written inside.
She and Granddad loved to dance. In Granddad's Army days, they taught the younger soldiers in the camps. They danced, and Granddad played the clarinet and saxophone; Mum remembers a jazz band that used to rehearse in their lounge. I still remember Granddad singing while Mum played piano, with Nana humming along out of tune. She still plays the old records, all the wartime music. Jazz. Watches black and white films.
My grandfather has been dead fifteen years, now. It's a long time to be alone.
* They are either stroke precursors, or mini-strokes, depending on who you ask. Regardless of who you ask, it's not a good thing.
** Grandad's first wife had a child by another man during WWII. When he went back to England, they divorced, apparently amicably.
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