Remembering my Ma.

This is a post that I'm writing to help myself process the recent death of my paternal Grandmother, affectionately known as Ma. She died gracefully of old age at 88.

I need to heed my own advice in "When things go left, go WRITE" and hence this post follows. Apologies if it's disjointed or overly emotional, that's how I'm feeling. I share things like this for those who might be feeling the same. I share things like this because I see the courage vulnerability takes and I like to push myself to do things that scare me. I like to write about the biggest thing that is taking up my focus, and at the moment, this is it. 



I got to say goodbye in the loveliest way, a few months ago, just before Christmas. She was in a bright mood at home, playing with her great grandson (my nephew) and reflecting about her life and that she doesn't have any regrets. She even entertained us with a story about when she played footsies with the tallest boy in her class (she was very tall when she was young). Quite a risque move for standard four!

I found out she died on Monday much later after it happened as I was away in the bush out of mobile service. When I switched my phone back on, I had a bombardment of family messages to process, and a lot of sleep to catch up on. The helpless feeling that I have being in another country overpowers my grief at the moment.  Even though I can video call loved ones and send flowers, it's not the same as sitting with them and a cup of tea.

She had a wonderful farewell funeral (her coffin was blue) that I was unable to fly home for. My father, Aunty, and cousins did a wonderful eulogy and everyone gathered together to remember her and the special light she shone into our lives.

.....

It's now 2 weeks since; I hesitated finishing this post because I needed some clarity.
Since her death, our family has been in recent and frequent communication not only to sort nitty gritty things, but to reflect memories. We have helped each other process and grieve and remember and celebrate. And that is what she would have wanted.

I bought a beautiful plant in her honour, it's thriving.

Before I let it go on another two weeks before publishing this or any blog post, I'm going to do it now. Unfinished, maybe imperfect, or unclear. 

May it not be a cry for sympathy from you to me, but a gentle nudge to tell those you love them and spend a thought for our dearly departed.

Jj