Listening to Wanda

The other day I arrived at Mum's house. She had just gotten back from the day out at the football, she had taken Gran to watch my nephews play.

Gran was sitting in the car while Mum ran inside before dropping her back at the old folks home. The girls ran ahead of me into the house, and I almost did too. I noticed that old Wandy was still sitting in the car, and I couldn't walk straight past without thinking of her having to sit in the car by herself, alone. 

I felt guilty for almost walking straight past her and going inside. I didn't want her to think I had ignored her, and as oldies age I guess it must feel like the younger ones are forgetting about them. Her days above ground on this earth are numbered. She recently had shingles and I can see the toll it took on her. She is looking much paler and much more weathered. 

If she does go soon, I would have never forgiven myself for almost walking past that day. Now is the time to cherish her the most. 

My Gran still has a mind like a steel trap. She can recall stories of things that happened years ago, with so much clarity. Here I am, having listened to those stories and can't remember a word of them. 

What I do know is no matter how much she rambles on, I really do enjoy listening to her.

I visited her over the ANZAC day weekend with the girls, to see her. She was so glad to see us and didn't shut up. I guess it gets a bit lonely in there. She marvelled over how lovely the girls are. "Dear little things", she called them, and gave them most of her lollies. "But not the snakes", she piped up. "I like the snakes!".

She told me stories about the dementia patients, and how sorry she felt for them. Even though their antics were sometimes very entertaining. There is one old duck there that has dementia/alzheimer's and Gran says, she never stops walking, always going somewhere, (but nowhere really). She says she wished she could walk like that. Grans body is giving up on her. She can't even support her own weight on her pins. It seems it doesn't matter when you get old, either your body packs in first, or your mind.

She recalled one lady walked in to the common room with an armful of clothes. She immediately thought, hello, she's been in someones room and taken their clothes. Only to recognize a pair of her pants and realise it was her room she'd been into! 

While I was at the Mount Gambier hospital on Wednesday, visiting a fellow Mothers grouper who'd just had a baby, I overheard a telephone conversation at a nurses station. I heard my Grans name, and that she was being transferred from Millicent.

After I spent time with my friend and her new, gorgeous little girl, I dropped in on Gran. She's in the high dependency ward. She looked weak, and was having trouble talking, and catching her breath.

She was overjoyed to see me. I was as thankful as all hell, I overheard that phone conversation. I was so glad, not long after arriving, she had a familiar face. I lifted her hand and kissed it. I felt like crying, but didn't. She reassured me that it's not her time. But I can see that time is near.

I'm heading back to the Mount tomorrow, after I go to Pelican Point to vacuum all the bugs after the great surface spray of last week. We actually have a paid customer staying friday and saturday night! Woo hoo :) 

I'd better take old Wandy some lolly snakes. It's her 86th birthday next week. It's always around Mother's Day. My sister is coming over from Gippsland, I hope she gets to say goodbye.

Linking with Rhianna.
Thankful for overhearing a phone conversation

Lunch at the pub with granny Wanda

Wednesday, the girls, my mum and I went out for lunch at the pub with my Gran, to celebrate her 85th birthday.

We all arrived at the Sportsmans. Mum went and fetched Gran from the pokies lounge.

She balked about how beautiful all her grandchildren were, and just quietly, she's absolutely right in doing so. I'm gorgeous. She was obviously talking about my girls and marvelled at them.

She talked about her age and how she was lucky to get to 85. Her legs are failing her, her health is sketchy. She counts herself lucky, as the women on her mothers side of the family generally died at an earlier age. 

Whereas the blokes on her fathers side lived well into their 90s.

She chuckled as she reminded me, that all her brothers were dead. All that remained were Nora(her sister) and her. God love her. Imagine being alive after most of your siblings had passed away. It would be like pieces of your heart had gone missing. I can imagine it would hurt.

I hope to reach such an awesome age and be still getting around and active, even with a wheelie walker, after your legs could not carry you properly anymore. How useful are those things?! Walking support, somewhere to sit and storage under the seat for your handbag! Sound like something anyone could use on a good night out at the pub!! 

As far as my mum is concerned, and rightfully so, poor old Wandy(no, that isn't a typo, that's our nickname for our granny Wanda), drives like someone who's been on a bender and should have her licence taken off her sooner than later! I don't know what the government was thinking when it cancelled the old age driving assessment! I don't think she would pass to be honest. 

When we lived on the corner of Enderby Lane thirty years ago, when I was a teenager, Mum swore she saw her go up on two wheels coming around the corner. It's always been a running joke and one we laugh about often.

We love her all the same and I am so thankful, so thankful, that my daughters can know her, go out for lunch dates with her, mum and me. Four generations, enjoying each others company, laughing and loving. 

She is the only close surviving grandparent I have. Boris, her husband died when I was 15.

My dad's parents I haven't seen since I was 8. They came over from Spain, I remember the trip to go get them from Tullamarine in Melbourne. They didn't speak a word of English, but the grandie cuddles were all I needed. I still remember the chunky woolly socks my Abuela knitted for me. She died a while ago, she had Dementia. My grandfather Daniel is still alive, but as distant to me as the seas that divide us.

Summer was a little shy, she doesn't see Wandy much, but she opened up. It makes me realise that maybe we don't drop in on Gran enough when she is at home. I have to change that, I have great memories of my Grans' house in Southend, where I spent a whole heap of time when I was a kid.