Saturday, 7 February 2009

.One more day.


If I could have just one more day with you, this is what I would do...

I would knock on your door and let myself in as you are calling out, "I'm in the garden!" and you would be happy to have visitor pop in unexpectedly.

I would sit with you one last time as you show me your photo albums (for the 50th time), and listen as you tell me who everyone is and how they have been a part of your life.

I would follow you around your garden, admiring your talents - tasting the first green bean of the season, ooh and aah over the dahlias in bloom, and help myself to a few handfuls of raspberries and strawberries while you wash a bag full of freshly picked carrots for me to take home. Your garden is your pride and joy.
I would cringe as you get the lolly jar down from the top of the fridge and give Oscar and Lil an old marshmallow each - hardened and chewy from sitting there for so long.

I would ask you to teach me how to cook your cream puffs, sponge cake, meringues and jelly bags...Dad has been asking me to get the recipe from you for months...and I haven't. And now it is too late.

I would teach you, once again, how to work your CD player and then write the instructions down for you so that you can do it for yourself when you are alone. And then you would tell me that it is too confusing and you probably won't be able to work it out, but could I put some music on for you anyway and make the CD repeat itself so that you don't have to worry about it later.

I would use your talc-powder smelling bathroom and laugh to myself as I go to the sink to wash my hands and see the basket full of 30-something different shades of lipstick to match every outfit you have.

I would ask you if you have any sponge cake in the fridge, and of course you do. And I would cut myself a big piece and you would sit at the table with me and have a little piece because you have diabeties and probably shouldn't be having any at all!
I would listen as you tell me about your most recent health ailments and complain about your hands...weathered and scarred with sun spots, scratches and cuts and you would remember when they were once young and fair.

I would take a look at your newest clothing purchases. Fuscia-coloured blouses and turquoise slacks.

I would ask you to tell me about when you and Pop first met, about your wedding day, and what it was like being a mother back then. Then we would compare it to what life is like now and realise that some things are better and some aren't.
I would smile as you offer me the latest copy of "Women's Weekly" magazine after you have teared out the "Gardening by the Moon" page because you swear by gardening by the moon.

I wish there were just one more day to spend with you in your home Nan. Instead I am sitting by your hospital bed and it is quiet. It is hard to talk to someone who doesn't talk back. I watch your eyes dart furiously around your head, knowing that you are desperately wanting to tell me so much. Are you cold? Tired? Scared? You can only squeeze my hand weakly and look into my eyes.

Your life has been full and rich Nan. What a wonderful family you have produced and an amazing example you are to us. I will always want one more day with you.


The Kings said...

I laughed when I read about Nan's lolly jar as all the lollies are always so old, but the kids don't care, as long as they are getting a lolly.
I haven't seen Nan since the stroke and am not sure if I want to, but think I should go anyway.

Carli said...

And now I'm crying. I love her so much. (And here I go to water my garden again in the hope it's one day almost as beautiful as hers)

sirpa said...

You don't know me Toni, I found you through Carli's blog, but I wanted to thank you for this beautiful post. It brought tears in my eyes. You and Carli are so good at putting your feelings into words! If you don't mind, I'd like to copy this, translate it into finnish, maybe modify a bit to fit to my granny and frame it and give to her when I visit her hospital bed. It says everything I want to tell her so beautifully and I could not have phrased it better myself!

Kelsey said...

What a beautiful post! You made me cry thinking about visiting my great grandma. We lost her last CHristmas and so many little things remind me of her, those teal slacks :) white Keds, The little mirrored tray I brought home form her house that used to display all those drugstore lipsticks for each outfit. She always had "green jello" (the pistachio one with whip cream and marshmallows) in her fridge. The smell in her bathroom was Paqueins (sp???) lotion, she loved that stuff!!! Enjoy the time you have with her!!!

Kathryn said...

That was just beautiful Toni! I have fond memories of your nan and we would visit her each time we came to Tas and just enjoy her. I only wish that everyone had a nan as wonderful as yours and could have the same colourful memories of such a delighful life!

Anonymous said...

thank you.

Marnie said...

How blessed your family is to have a Nan like yours. What a beautiful piece of writing too Tone, made me cry. I have my own special memories of time spent at her house, in her garden, at her table, looking at her photo albums...Kathryn is right in the previous comment- if only everyone had a Nan as wonderful as yours!

Andrea said...

Your words are beautiful Toni. I have been through thte same thing over the last two weeks so I know where you are at. May your family stick together in this time as you celebrate what sounds like a wonderful lady who has had a wonderful life.

Anonymous said...

That was beautiful Tone...thankyou. I'm crying too!! Love you, Fil x

katherine said...

ohh Toni That was beautiful.You are such a kind and beautiful person, cherish the time with her she really is a matriarch

Penny B. said...

Thanks Toni. You made me cry and laugh. I wish I could be home to see her one more time. We just received a Christmas card today from Nan (it was stuck in the mail) and it mostly talked about her garden and the flowers that were flowering back in December.

April said...

What a wonderful tribute!

Tania said...

I have these thoughts all the time about my dad. I think about the last time I spoke to him, the things we shared. What he would think about my boys...would he be proud of the mother I have become? Just one more day, would mean the world. It has been three and a half years since he passed, though it feels like yesterday.
Old on to the good memories, and always, always let people know you love them.
Take care,
(ps - stalking the postman waiting for my skirt - so excited, thanks again!)

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