Hey everyone!!
Hope you're all well!!
I feel as if we haven't really talked in a long time and for that I apologise. I've gone through my fair share of heartache and growing up in the past couple of months. There were days when I wanted to chuck everything in and bury my head in the sand. And yet there were days where I could have taken on the world. I'm never entirely personal on here, as I never really know what to say. I suppose the last time I wrote a 'personal' post was when I dropped out of college in 2012 - so much has happened since then. Instead of talking about the last two years of my life, I thought I would talk about one major event from the last few months. Warning - this doesn't have a happy ending, but one we can all learn from.
Nearly three months ago my Nanny Jean passed away. It was quick and sudden and although in the last 10 months or so we had a mutual hate for one and other, I miss her. When I found out about her death I went in to shock, I didn't know how to react or what to say. I didn't know whether to be happy or sad - or both! I immediately rang my friend Jaime and had a chat. We were both in shock and laughing at the same time. I had a little cry later that day, but what I remember most is being so awkward around my Dad. I knew he talked about how he wished my Nan would pass (we all did); but we never thought it would actually happen. You see, 11 months ago my parents moved in to look after my Nan and left my sister and I alone to fend for ourselves (not entirely but you get my meaning). I instantly hated my Nan and would often talk about wanting the grim reaper to come and take her away. I had so much anger not only for her but also for my parents. I hated the fact that they could just abandon their children like that (no matter the age). I understood the situation and how much my Nan did need help; but my Nan was manipulative to the point where I wouldn't see my parents for weeks. Just talking about Nan to my parents would wind me up so much that I would cry. How could one person change our lives for the bad? When my Nan became ill we all knew she would pull through (she had done several times before); but when she started to deteriorate I went in to denial. I strongly believed my Nan would pull through and continue to make our lives hell, even when the doctor told us she was dying I still refused to believe it. When the call came I was in shock because I never thought this day would come. A couple days after her passing I burst in to tears in front of my parents. I lost my last connection to my Grandpa Bob who had passed when I was 2. Although I had my Dad, it didn't quite feel the same. When the funeral came around, I was so nervous. I remember sitting in the car and asking my Mum why I couldn't get out. I hated being in that confined space staring at a wooden box in front. When we joined the rest of the family I did nothing. I didn't know what to say or how to act, instead I stared at the floor until we were called. I'll never forget what happened next. There were men carrying this small wooden coffin as Glen Miller's 'Moonlight Serenade' began to play. As if on cue the tears began to fall - they never stopped. At one point during the service I was looking at this box and thinking my Nan was in there - I hated it. I even lost it halfway though and my Dad was trying to comfort me and although every fibre of my being wanted to push him away, I did nothing - I didn't know what to do. At the end of the ceremony the vicar gave me a hug and I headed straight down to see my Grandpa Bob. The tears continued to fall and my heart started to break. Thankfully (and another set of tears later) my family had managed to distract me from this horror I was living in. A couple of weeks later I was back at the cemetery to say goodbye - for good. The ashes were there in front of me, a grey pile in a muddy hole - this was my Nan. The tears began to fall and I surrendered. What I realised on that day was the fact that I did miss my Nan. Yes she was evil, yes she was manipulative but she was also strong, independent and she survived SO much. I spent most of my childhood with this amazing woman. With every day I spent in her company, she told me stories of her courage and hardships and of course my Grandpa picking her up in a bar - the usual. If Charlie or myself have half of the traits that made my Nan great, then I think we're going to be alright.
Hate is a strong word and it can lead to consequences. I know there were points where I did truly loathe my Nan, but I did still love her - I loved who she used to be. I will never forget my Nan (even if I wanted to) and although my Nan will never see me graduate from university or get married or see me having kids, I know she is always with me and keeping an eye on me. I can see her now moaning about me to my Grandpa about my new hair colour and quitting work.
RIP Jeanette Elizabeth Allen - a truly remarkable woman.
B x
