This week’s word has been difficult, the english language is vast, yet at times nothing seems to encapsulate what you need to say.
And then, sometimes it may be better not to say anything, but when it’s the focal of so much, it’s difficult to know where to start from when you haven’t really begun.
And so, I am slightly cheating. I use the Word of the Week linky as a bit of a tracker, how our week’s are progressing, so this one must be written, and on the premise of being true, this is what fits.
On Sunday morning the hubby received the phone call, that he needed to be at the hospital, at 2pm his mum passed away. He was able to spend those last hours with her, talking, reminiscing, finding resolution, finding peace.
Our children have been amazing, they have lost a key part of their lives, and their comprehension has given us strength. E has a firm appreciation that Nana Windows has gone to heaven to be happy, B thinks that she and God read each other bedtime stories, although perhaps our overuse of technology has come to the fore as it has been more difficult to understand why we can’t phone or text God to make sure Nana Windows is doing ok. CM is probably at a more difficult age, where life isn’t quite as straightforward, too much yet too little known, where the complexities aren’t as easy to simplify. Even so she knows, that whilst it is so incredibly sad, that her Nana is in a better place.
And yes, it’s beyond sh*t.
There is so much to be done that I wonder how people factor in the time to grieve. There is an expectation of what needs to be done and when. And I wonder. Yes, as an only child it does all fall to my hubby, and in some ways he felt prepared for this. But how do people cope? I standby and watch how busy he needs to make himself. How somethings are just too much. How some conversations wound. How in the least expected places he has found therapy. But it almost feels that this amount of busy will come to a halt, and then what?
There was a lady, who had a son, and that son went on to be my husband, and we went on to have three wonderful children.
And so she had three grandchildren, who she doted on.
Beyond doted on, she made her life about them.
She let them, despite all unvoiced protests, call her Nana Windows.
She moved her life 200 miles to be closer to them.
Her lounge was full of the toys she collected for them.
There’s a lady who will be remembered each day for what she gave, and the happiness she brought.
A life undoubtedly too short.