Our children have been lucky enough to have all four grandparents living and active, and to have known a great-grandmother as well.  My Gran, who was 97 (and a half! she would have added) died peacefully this afternoon after a brief illness.  Just over a year ago, she chose to move away from the home she had lived in most of her adult life, with its quarter-acre garden, and into a little independent-living unit in a retirement village in the city closest to her country town.  And just a couple of months ago she started to become frail.

We visited her a fortnight ago, when she became really ill, and all said our goodbyes then.  It was a hard time, but a lovely one, and comforting, now, to know we did.

Gran was an amazing woman who achieved many wonderful things.  She raised three sons and nursed a sick husband.  She – and my Grandad – were very active for decades in their local drama society.  She served on her local council, in a time when it was rare for women to do so.  She researched our family tree, and her gift to all of us was a greater understanding of our heritage.  She published her first book aged 77, and her last one 15 days ago.  She was an avid reader of this blog, and if there’s internet in heaven (and why wouldn’t there be?), she is still.

I was, I am, so proud of her.  So proud of what she did in her life, and how she lived it, and that she was my Gran.  So grateful that my children got to know her, and that she got to see Babess walking, and sign a copy of her book for Pearl, and laugh at Fainjin playing with her chair.

We are all sad and we will miss her.  But we’re thankful to have had her in our lives, so fully and for so long.



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