First I’d like to write about my Gran.

My Dad’s Eyes
(This is something I still to this day am not over, she was honestly incredible)
Family. Family is what has made me, me. It defined me. Family is a place where pure love for one another flows through our blood at all times, even through the hard times, love is what makes things slightly better. For me anyway. It’s funny how the world works, how a human is brought into the world, filled full of love and character, surrounded by so many new people who will care for you till the ends of the earth, yet slowly that human that has created such special unbreakable connections will lose those people, one way or another. How “is” becomes she “was”, just a small change in words can be so significant. It never crosses your mind as a child. Aged 12 I had created this connection with my Gran. It was sort of like a string that was connected from my heart to hers, no matter how far away from her I was that string was vibrating with love at all times. She always had a particular smell to her, her house was the same, I craved that smell all the time. 12 years is a long time, a time where that string became thick and strong. I remember so clearly my Dad receiving a call, “Aimee, Gran’s broken her rib”, my gran had broken her rib and was in hospital receiving treatment. I remember the anxiety building up in me, worrying about her and her poor rib. Will she be OK? I wanted to see her, hug her. For me, it seems to be that when something happens, things just seem to become worse, like a game of Jenga, if someone takes a fragile brick from the middle of the tower, it will fall down, that’s what happened, slowly things began to fall apart and my anxiety about Gran and her broken rib, became anxiety about Gran with stage 4 lung cancer. Within the space of few days it went from a broken rib to “Your Gran is dying”. How does that work? How does someone possibly start dying within a few days? Why didn’t we notice it sooner? What do we do? Thoughts of helplessness were constant. My Dad went to Scotland to go and see her, while we stayed home in Bristol, no one had any idea how bad she was. Everything felt very surreal, things had escalated so quickly, my brain hadn’t caught up. It felt like everything around me was still moving through time yet it had also stopped. Mum received a call one morning from my Dad, the words “it’s time” still stick in my mind to this day. I hate that, “it’s time”, I was meant to have so much more “time” with her, I just didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just get better. Doctors use medicine right? So why aren’t they working? “Time” is a constant thing, so why is Gran’s ending? What are the use of doctors if you’re just accepting that it’s my Grans, “time”. Even though all this was flowing through my head I got overly excited to visit her, I cannot even begin to explain the rush that shot through my body. All the news about her illness just disappeared, I just wanted to visit my Gran. I remember being such a handful for my mum acting like a kid at christmas. I was going to see my Gran, and I’d be able to cuddle her and kiss her and tell her I love her and the thought of all that was overwhelming. The plane journey felt so long, from Bristol to Glasgow it is around a forty minute flight, but it felt like a whole day, I became quite restless and had many “are we there yet?” moments. Now, it had felt like time was plodding along, like a heavy, slow object, yet my brain and body were working double time. I felt sorry for my mum, she had a lot on her hands, two children absolutely bouncing with excitement and my sister the age of three constantly needed to be kept distracted from the intensity of air pressure. Before we had landed Mum mentioned Dad was picking us up to go straight to the Hospital, the restlessness left and I was bouncing again, I was so excited to see my Dad, we never usually spent much time away from each other. Anyway, so we arrive, that first step onto the ground of Scotland vibrated through my foot, I loved visiting Scotland, it always felt like my other home. The fresh air of the North relaxed my body. We get inside the airport, me and my brother are basically running at this point, I spot my Dad and began to sprint over, a rush of love filled me. I remember each step towards him everything began to feel more and more negative, like something was attached to my arms, a weight, a heavy, emotional weight pulling me down. Then that was it. Everything just ended. All in that one moment everything around me became silent. One look into my Dad’s eyes and I knew. His big blue eyes staring directly into mine explained everything, full of sadness and tears, it broke me. She had gone. No goodbye, no I love you. My Gran had died.

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