My Granny & Friday 13th

I’ve written about my Granny on here before:

And today she is in my thoughts again. Through my teenage years I got really close to my Granny and she stood out as a very wise woman and influential part of my life when I was growing up.

She was a lovely, down to earth lady, who reached the ripe old age of 87. My Granny was someone I loved to be around and wanted to make proud. She lived miles away, and I’d go and visit her maybe once a year, and wrote to her regularly as I was growing up.

In late 2002, she was on her death bed, and had still taken the time out to write me my annual Christmas card. She died, at home, on Friday 13th December. And so followed a very sad and important few days for me in my life.

As a young woman at the time (22), out of duty, on the Saturday, I travelled to Lochaline where she lived, and helped my Aunt with all of the arrangements.

I saw my Granny in her coffin, and helped get the house ready for the wake. The funeral was on the Wednesday after she died, and (perhaps against local tradition, as a woman) I had the honour of being one of the pole bearers, lowering her into the ground on that cold, clear December morning.

Late that afternoon, as the low Winter sun was setting over Lochaline, I left for home. And a few hours later, exhausted both physically and mentally, I got home to my flat: to this card from my Granny in the post.

Written in my Granny’s very shaky writing, the envelope was post marked the day she died: 13-12-02.

I opened it with a big smile, and came across her signature, and a five pound note she’d put in the card.

I burst into tears. Remembering her, my Granny, and what a wonderful person she was. A lovely lady who was full of manners, a true lady in every sense of the word.

I’ll always keep that £5 note, even though she would be mad at me not spending it. My Granny, the card and the £5 note, always remain with me (locked away safely).

A few things happened that weekend that were almost life changing for me. I was struggling to deal with my crazy family at one point, and I went out for a look at the clear December skies.

Looking up, wondering why I was putting myself through this, a massive shooting star went right across the sky towards where she was lying in her coffin in the house.

It was as if it was Granny, telling me it would be ok. Telling me to hang in there and help, and everything would be ok and All is well.

My Granny lived on the west coast and whenever I’d travel to see her, I’d usually see some stunning rainbows in the rainy weather.

Since she died, when I see rainbows, I always smile and think of her. Sunshine and showers = rainbows.

As I was driving home from her house that day, I left just as the sun was starting to go down, and an hour later by the time I got to the Corran Ferry, it was as if the lights had gone out. It was dark and it was the end of my life with my Granny.

Sunshine by Gabrielle was playing on my car stereo and it struck me how much that song reminded me of my Granny and the time we had together.

I still have all of the many letters she wrote to me, along with the booklet from her funeral and photos of her. I think I’ll have a wee read of my letters today, and you never know, perhaps I might see a wee rainbow today too. 🙂

When I lowered her into the ground, and after her funeral, all I could think about was my Granny, and making her proud. Time out to myself, and I swore I’d do her proud.

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