Today is the first day of my entire life I have existed on this planet without my Nanna. I’ve been mindlessly scrolling on my phone and lounging around. Crying at random moments. I can’t quite wrap my head around how I will never see her again.
The last time I spoke to her she said “Who knows… I might still be here next Christmas”. “You better be, girl” I said. She laughed and said “I love you” before hanging up the phone.
Over the last few months I’ve learned that grief comes in many forms. And when someone has been sick for a long time, the grieving process can begin while they’re still with you. With that said, nothing can quite prepare you for when that moment finally comes.
I haven’t been the perfect granddaughter. I would often forget to call Nanna on her birthday. I would tell her I would come and visit and then months would go by and I hadn’t. I forgot that while I was growing up, she was growing older.
When we are young, we think we are so unique and misunderstood. Now I realise how much I’m like my Nanna. My strong sense of justice, my need to have the last word and my fiery disposition. Partnered with a desire to be loved, thought about and cared for. Nanna and I were both a little dramatic and thought it was perfectly normal to change our names. Nanna was born Lillian, changed her name to Margaret for several years and then changed her name back to Lillian. I was named after my Nanna. My birth certificate reads Kayla Margaret. Then Nanna had the nerve to change her name back to Lillian. It’s okay though because I changed my name to Kayla Valerie.
A few weeks ago, I had the urge to sit down and write about my Nanna. Writing helps me process my feelings and collect my thoughts. After I had written about my Nanna, the only person I wanted to share my words with was her. I didn’t want to wait until she passed for me to share what she meant to me. I wanted her to know how much she was loved while she was still here. After reading what I had wrote, my Nanna called me on FaceTime and was blissfully happy. “That was so nice, Kayla” she said in her Scottish accent. She told me she wanted to put it in an archive so people could read about her in 200 years. I feel so much gratitude that she read it when she did because she began to decline dramatically only a day later.
I decided I wanted to share with you all what my Nanna meant to me because I think she would get a real kick out of people reading about her.
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Nanna was the definition of showing love through one’s actions. Apart from my parents, she was one of the few consistent adult figures in my childhood. I have never gone a single birthday without a card from her. She wouldn’t write much in her cards but I always knew the pre-written message inside the card was thoughtfully and carefully selected by her.
She wasn’t your typical Nanna. She was the first to let you know if you’d gained some weight. She wasn’t afraid to put you in line. She also didn’t like avocado or peanut butter which is kind of weird. She had an authenticity that is hard to come by nowadays. Nanna was a tough woman because life had shown her she needed to be tough. She never sugarcoated anything and that’s why her words carried weight. If she said she loved you or was proud of you, you better believe she meant it.
We once got into a heated discussion at my nephew’s christening while playing Uno. She cheated and I won. (We were both playing by our own rules). Nanna loved to collect things. Clocks, jewellery, antiques. When I was little, I would look in her glass cabinet filled with her collections. I remember admiring her ceramic shoe collection. My favourite was a green Mary-Jane shoe. I thought it was so glamorous and wished I could play with it. I didn't dare to touch it. I knew better.
When we were little, my sister Melissa and I stayed with Nanna and Poppy for a week in Forster. We spent the week wandering around the beach, playing cards and hiring movies from the local Blockbuster. During that week, Nanna took us to the cinema. I made the mistake of leaving my rubbish behind in the theatre. Nanna made me go back into the theatre and take my rubbish because I was “raised better than that”.
I love hearing about her reaction to my birth. It was Christmas morning in 1992 when my Mum unexpectedly went into labour while in the bathroom. My Mum gave birth to me all on her own, which is a testament to the strength of the women in our family. Apparently when my Nanna heard the news she said “So, are we not doing Christmas lunch anymore?”.
I recently spent some time with Nanna in Forster. A time I will forever cherish. Nanna had always been incredibly tough but during this time she was softer and allowed us to take care of her. We held hands as we bonded over being “twinning skinny gals” and when she would get me in trouble for not placing a chopping board underneath her toaster the way she liked it, she said it with a wink. Nanna would talk so loudly when she didn’t have her hearing aids in. Mum and I would even catch her talking about us. We giggled in our room as Nanna said “Do you think they can hear us?”.
I was surprised she still didn't let anything get past her. Even in her sickest moments, she still found the strength to get outraged her local Chinese shop had charged me $15.70 for some mixed vegetables. Another time, while the ambulance was pulling up her driveway to take her to the hospital, she told me I need to dry my wet hair before I go to sleep on her pillows.
In a quiet moment, Nanna called me into her room. We sat on the edge of her bed where she gave me one of her rings. I felt like a little girl again, admiring my Nanna’s beautiful things. The ring didn't fit my finger. “I didn’t know you had such fat fingers” she said. She asked me to help her put on a necklace. It was a necklace I gave her in 2018 after she had a heart attack. It was a green crystal that the shop assistant at the crystal shop said would protect her heart. As we stood in front of her vanity, I could see both of our reflections in her mirror. Two generations of women, more alike than they were different. Her demeanour was sweet, delicate and warm. I stood behind her as I helped her put on her necklace. The emerald green stone perfectly contrasting her porcelain skin. I don't think I had ever been allowed inside her bedroom before. I could tell she was wanting to connect with me. It was a small gesture that meant so much. “You’re our matriarch” I said into her ear. Her eyes brightened as she smiled.
We had a few hard nights where we had to call the ambulance. I was really worried about her. I wasn't sure how to comfort her so I stroked her hair. I prayed and asked for help in finding the right words. I whispered into her ear “You’re the strongest woman I know”. “HUH?” She couldn’t hear me. I then yelled into her ear “YOU’RE THE STRONGEST WOMAN I KNOW” as I held her hands. She smiled. Being strong was something she was proud of. She told me how she felt useless and guilty that Poppy had to do so much for her. I said “You’ve always taken care of everyone else. Let us take care of you”. She settled back into her chair as if to say good point.
My Mum told me that all Nanna ever wanted was to experience true, romantic love. After watching Poppy take care of her during her hardest times, I can say with confidence that she found that once-in-a-lifetime-love with him. In 2019, when Nanna was 79, her and Poppy got married after over 30 years together. I remember congratulating them and Poppy asked me when I was going to marry my long-time love. “Maybe in 30 years?” I said. “Oh she wants to be like her Granny!” Poppy laughed. Nanna found it all hilarious. Nanna never pressured me to get married, have children or do anything I didn't want to do. She always greatly encouraged my independence. While on the phone with her a few months ago, she was genuinely so excited and thrilled that I had plans to travel and was taking Pilates classes. She had no resentment or jealously. She wanted me to have wonderful adventures and to see the world.
I’m always grateful to Nanna for giving me the best Mum in the whole world. Like Nanna, she is fiercely loyal, dependable and strong. While also being empathic, kind-hearted, creative, funny and hard-working. I take pride in knowing Nanna is a part of me. Her strength and resilience runs through my veins. I have lived a lot of my adult life in fear. I’m now realising I don’t need to. Being an extension of my Nanna means I am strong beyond measure.
I love you, Nanna. Always and forever.
Love Kayla Margaret x
❤️