Two years ago I wrote a book called A Spoonful of Sugar, with my Granny.
Here’s a link to me waffling about on YouTube about it:
(I didn’t choose the book’s title, which I hate and which bears no resemblance to the contents, or the cover, which I hate even more. Just….y’know. So we’re clear there.)
Granny died very suddenly, a year ago tonight. She had cancer. She never once complained. Not EVER.
Nobody knew she was that ill.
It was all so sudden there was no ‘Goodbye’.
No ‘I love you’.
No ‘thank you’.
There was only an “Auch, wheesht! I’ll speak to you in a few days, Elizabeth.”
But she never did.
Granny was bright, chatty, engaged and engaging to the very, very end. She was, throughout her life, a remarkable, intelligent, strong woman.
I still miss her every day, and have her garbled predictive-text messages in my phone. The last one she ever sent me reads:
“Tlanks for photos tlvly ate super Masses of snow here stlll but loday sllght lhow. 1.2e Instead of inus flgures. Skllng Is brlllant I am told. I stay by fire XX 1”
I feel very lucky to have got the chance to know her so well, and for my children to have done the same.
So if your children still have Great Grandparents, I’d urge you to try and let them get to know each other as much as they can, before they too leave us.
I’m off for a good old cry now, but I hope you enjoyed the clip and will got forthwith to buy the book (Amazon sells it, bien sur. Oooh, I’m cheeky.)
I’ll be back tomorrow on top, jolly form again.