My dear grandma died almost 21 years ago, but would have made it to the ripe old age of 99 if she was still with us today. She always said she didn’t want to grow too old, because growing old wasn’t much fun. So it’s not sad that she is gone, but I do miss her.
It wasn’t until recent years that I realised how much of a rock she was in my earlier years. Whenever the going got tough, she was always there for me, always supportive, always kind. She was able to provide support to me, that I now realise was absolutely critical for getting me to where I am today.
When I was 5 years old, I was in a very serious car crash, and I went to live with my grandma and pop for many weeks afterwards, while my parents were busy tending to my brother. I couldn’t walk initially, as I apparently had “bruising of the joints” (I had no idea why I couldn’t walk at the time, but my wonderful Auntie Vera was able to fill me in about it many years later). After a few days, my grandma told me that I needed to start moving, but I didn’t want to because it was too difficult. So she got all the adults who had come to visit, to come into the hallway and cheer me on while I tried to navigate my way along the hallway. I felt dejected when I only made it to the first door. But grandma managed to make it feel like I had conquered Everest. She took something which was depressing and turned it into a positive achievement to make me feel better. With my new found zest for regaining the ability to walk, I quickly came back right and was tearing around the house like a 5 year old should.
Of course, she then needed to deal with an over energized five year old who was bored out of their mind, since I wasn’t able to attend school there and I had no friends in the area to play with. So she took me on super long walks in nature. Initially she seemed to be having a lot of fun walking me around, but after a few days I think she started to regret trying to keep up with an energetic five year old. I remember her saying “wouldn’t it be fun if pop drove us to the top of the hill and we just walked down instead of up?”, but I just responded with “no, walking up is more fun”. She then pointed out that she was old and couldn’t keep up, so walked from the top down. I will always cherish those times spent with her. I remember feeling intensely lonely, but she was able to hold the darkness away until I could return to school again.
RIP Marjorie Rose Moody. Born May 23rd 1922, died June 3rd 2000.
Grandmas are the best. Lovely story
Ryan, this is lovely to read!
It made me think of all the lovely memories I have of both Aunty Marge and my gran.
Weren’t we lucky to have had such amazing women in our lives💕