Just to warn you, you might not understand any of this. As it's pretty personal. I just needed to let it out...
So basically, recently I've had quite alot on my mind, and that kind of all came to a head this evening with me bursting into tears at the dinner table over a coffee grinder. My granny's coffee grinder. It smells like her house.
My Granny is pretty ill. Well, she's not ill. She's just given up on wanting to live. She was the sort of woman who lived every second to the max, never quit, never wasted a second or a penny or a mouthful of food. And I don't think I'm going to be able to cope when she's gone. I've got a feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's going to be soon. And I don't know what to do.
I miss her house.
Her grand, old, huge, beautiful house. With the stone floors and the AGA and the clock tower and the fire place and the hand made chess board my dad made when he was in school.
I miss her food, well, I miss being at the age where it's still ok to be picky about food and not want to eat something because it's got beetroot in it. I miss toast at breakfast from bread she made herself.
I miss not being allowed to watch TV at her house. I read so many good books next to her fire.
I miss her.
I want her back. I want her to talk. To listen. To be here for me when I need her.
She barely speaks. She's had a few strokes so we have no idea if she even knows who we are anymore.
She looks so small.
I want my childhood back. I want to be able to remember and talk about it without my dad crying because his mother is in an old peoples home because she can barely walk, eat, communicate.
I want this pain to go away.
I don't want my last memory of her to be in a box.
I can't deal with death.
I just can't.