Secondary Loss

My Grandma, Doreen, died just stretching across the threshold of her 105^th birthday,  that proud, determined spirit and resolute mind set being true to form right until the last, this is comforting.

My grandma wasn’t the tradition playful, cuddly, cheerleader, she was forthright, she was strong, and she had a, her way or the high way mentality, my grandma, some would say was marmite. I also saw that beneath the veneer, there was a vulnerability which she could never communicate, she either never had the skill set or I believe thought no one was truly interested. She meant a lot to me and when she died my feelings were bitter sweet, she wasn’t well, I didn’t want her to prolong her journey but at the same time I had so much invested in this lady, that I had to un-pick all the secondary losses to made sense of my feelings.

My grandma this was my primary loss, she was no longer here, and I could no longer experience the pleasure of taking her for regular days out, exchanging stories, trying to work out what she wasn’t saying, sharing chocolate and supporting her without supporting her, so she would accept the help.

My secondary losses;

I also lost my role as a granddaughter – and therefore some of my identity

I lost my sense of mortality; I was ½ her age, as long as Grandma was alive!

I lost my human connection to my city of birth, Nottingham

I lost so many inside jokes, the stories and rituals that we had shared, which no one else could possible understand, a part of my past went with her, we had a sense of humour connection

Without grandma there was no longer, the call for family gatherings, I lost my shortcut to my extended family

I lost my letter writer, a note maker, a believer in taking the time to write and share her news by stamp not telephone

I lost my sewing and cookery teacher, I still use her sewing machine, it’s comforting something we shared.

I lost my critical friend

I lost her at every family event, anniversary, bank holiday etc

I needed to observe these tangible differences, I needed to make time for them in my future, I painted my office yellow, her favourite colour and I love it, it like grandma cheering me on, in the middle of January, which is ironic as she was never a cheerer (or was she?), however I know I will always have a yellow room in my home. For the same reason, the daffodils I planted are for her.

I am more appreciative about the things I bought when I was with her; they have taken on additional meaning

I write letters / cards

When I really miss her I get my playing cards out and play solitaire (she did this for hours)

I continue to sew

I continue to appreciate my hands in soil and the joy in flowers

I look after my nails

I now add salt to my food (it was work of the devil) and raise an eyebrow as I do so.

I pay attention to colour coordination

In short my grandma continues to travel with me and this is immeasurable, she continues to walk with me and this makes me incredible lucky and happy.

Once I worked through the primary and secondary loss and worked out tangible ways to have her around me, it all felt better, I still miss her, always will, now through the change is subtle, I now peacefully miss her.