Today would have been my beloved Nan’s 100th birthday.
I miss her. I’m thinking of my Dad and his brother and sisters and how they are missing their mother. This day, especially.
My siblings and I spent much of our childhood with her – before and after school, at the weekend, during holidays. She was caring, loving and warm but tough. Little but fierce. The original spitfire. I still remember her hands. Her voice. Her laugh. Her smell.
I wrote a little about her in Liberating Motherhood. Every time I return to that section, I cry.
So, really, although I write about mothers – ourselves, our own – I just want to honour my grandmother, the matriarch, with a short note. With a thanks and a moment. She was my father’s mother. She was loved.
As I say to my children, those we love will always be with us if they are in our hearts.
Love you Nan.
Image credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/blumenbiene/29161137836/in/photolist-LqSsjy-GT1eYu-L3qzNE-GT161j-F5V297-eb2QV2-5TrQzM-5TwbPC-5FNe4x-7sauPV-v9eRZr-xgDH2B-cm9XMw-r8WVJq-ArgRmm-81uDBx-iJhZm8-aXq7De-c2wkq3-79d5dQ-w5sUAY-bvWbCn-LjsDCf-58jWfz-wBjNW2-eTN8jf-79UZmg-p9jKae-w66MGM-jJTb7j-KwSV5N-6mAx6D-wB9xmA-r5ktTA-zBjHNo-AgKbF1-4BeUgC-oEtUvF-a4RW9g-c2xazw-kAAQKW-4wAMpw-9eBkqF-c2wJ3w-tbvJe-eTAB8Z-xgxH1s-aCA2Rs-5vCS19-LqSUpE