My grandmother’s birthday was the 10th of July. I used to forget which day it was because my aunt’s birthday is on the 11th. I always got mixed up, never remembering who’s birthday is first.
Finally my aunt told me to just remember that my Granny was born first. Since then I never forgot my grandmother’s birthday on the 10th.
My birthday is on the 6th, which will always serve me as a wonderful little reminder that I used to share my birthday-month with the woman who counselled me in decisions I struggled to make when I very uncertain about my life and what I wanted to do with it. I always thought my granny to be a formidable woman- someone who could not be easily swayed by people and their opinions.
My Granny passed away this Sunday. The day was beautiful, a gorgeous rainbow was colouring the sky, and a magnificent bird of prey flew close to my building, and sat for a minute on the lamp post in front. She was finally at peace. And I was happy for her.
Today I think of her and I still feel happy, because she is now with my grandpa, my father, my mother and my brother. And one day the rest of us will join them too after long last.
A toast to those days coming, dear Maureen, Melville, Clive, Corrie and my darling Shane.