Remembering Grandma

Remembering Grandma

It’s funny what you find when you aren’t looking.
This little cutie, is, was, forever will be my Grandma.
She had no teeth, but I never questioned the normality of this. I used to sit on her lap, and sometimes, on ever so special days, she’d suck her lips all the way in to her mouth, and look like that old lady who gives the apple to Snow White!
She never had a tv, I wondered what on earth she did all day. She, in fact used to pray, all day out loud, and when my Mum would call her up, she’d call my Mum “Lord” as it was the name she was most used to calling.
She was a knitter, and the legacy lives on in me. She was the kind of grandma that knitted cardi’s for every child she knew!
She smelled of white musk and talc. She used to brush her hair skyward, “to give it volume”, and she never went grey.
Her dressing table was adorned with dozens of pearl necklaces and bejewelled clip on earrings. The perfect princess dressing up box.
She joined her closest friend when I was only little at the grand old age of 84. I was in Paris when she went, and I woke up in the night at the exact moment she passed.
I will forever remember her squidgy soft papery skin, her tea leaf strainer, her beautiful cursive, and how much she loved me.

And thankyou Olafur Arnalds for making these memories all the more moving. This song makes me cry anyway, let alone with memories of such a treasured one.
I look forward to seeing her again one day.


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