I got a call from Dad about halfway through the morning to tell me that Granny Sue passed away last night at home after coming back from the hospital. I felt slightly numb for the rest of the day, all I could think about was how I always associated Wednesdays with her.
Growing up, Wednesdays were always the special days when Granny Sue would come to visit. After school she'd give Louis and me some pocket money and a few sweeties from the corner shop - (usually Polos or Rolos). We'd drag her into the living room whenever Art Attack was on and have supper with her in our small dining room at Shaw Road, then we'd say 'Cherrio' as we waved her off down the road. We'd next see her on Sundays for a roast dinner at her house.
I keep thinking about the various bits and bobs she knitted for me and Louis. A wollen Gromit, a pair of slipper socks, the PG tips monkey and a plethora of Christmas tree decorations. Each time I hold them now I'll no doubt be reminded of her.
The last time I saw her was only a few days ago over the weekend, though she was physically frail, her mind was still all there. She kept telling Rebecca an me that she wanted to leave the hospital to see the garden. I'd forgotten just how fond she was of the garden, but when I close my eyes, that's exactly where I see her. Sitting in her summerhouse with her nose in a Su Doku and a cup of tea by her side. She'd see you coming from about halfway down the lawn, smile and wave before offering you a seat inside for a chat. What I wouldn't give for one more of those summerhouse talks.
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