My Grandfather died when I was 2, this was ages ago. But it means that for Nana the whole of Christmas time is a kind of sad time, a time of memories.
I don’t remember him, but for as long as I can remember I’ve been told the story about how he was told he wouldn’t make it to Christmas, but he was determined. How I was trained to say merry Christmas Grandad, and how proud he was.
He died on the 29th, and so all day has been distraction and it has been Thursday all day – the 29th has not been mentioned at all. He has been gone for longer than he was with her, but that level of love and miss is kind of awesome.
Nana has been sad so we’ve had a day out.
We went out exploring the sales… St Albans, Hatfield and London Coney. It was interesting, tiring and we bought random stuff.
A collection of bizarre reduced vegetables collected more by their level of reduction than their logical link to each other…
I still maintain this is a Mandrake!
A day for sitting, taking Nana exploring.
And an evening with the puppy not so much sitting as lolling with her head pointing to the floor.
As is traditional I was responsible for the collection of Nana. I took her shopping, it would seem that she shares Tkmaxx joy, possibly because things only last an isle before changing.
But she doesn’t get Lego joy, there is something so beautifully calming about just running your fingers through hundreds of little Lego heads, their sameness, all feeling identical, but in reality slight differences between each.
Pure class, so refined.
Legs spread belly up… treated like a princess
There were presents, and Christmas dinner, bra shopping and Lego shopping.
Explaining why it’s important that clementines have leaves as Christmas is hard!
That satisfying moment when you call home and your father asks when he might see you, you answer 5 mins and he doesn’t believe you…
And the on to the North.