goodnight nanny

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I took this photo of my nanny on her last birthday less than 8 months ago
Wasn’t looking bad for 95, was she?

Tonight, the sweetest old lady in the entire world passed away, thankfully peacefully after a fitful day.

I will stand by the statement no matter what.

At the start of this week, she said that she didn’t want to die. Yesterday, she said she was ready. Today she said that a doctor had come and visited her and said that she’d better hurry up as she was meant to have gone on Thursday (this was actually a hallucination or dream).

This afternoon, she not only said goodbye to everyone, she then started singing “Sweet Goodbye”.

And THAT is why she was the sweetest, kindest, loveliest, funniest, most switched-on old lady in the entire world.  And why I am so sad that she has gone, but so happy that it was when she wanted to.

To some, it may seem strange for me to post this – for me it is a way to say it, and release.

goodbye uncle dave

My beloved uncle died on 9th February.

It has taken me this long to be able to type that. My uncle died.

Even now, I can barely read what I have just typed as the tears have welled up to blur my vision. My uncle died.

My Uncle Dave was my favourite member of my family.  My mum’s older brother, he was the middle of my nan and grandad’s kids (my aunt died 20 years ago aged just 46, when my cousins were 19 and 25).

We don’t have a big family. There’s me, my mum & dad, my nan, my two cousins (and our kids) and that’s it. That’s my family (apart from extended family who we don’t really see).  And my uncle lived with my nan all his life. He was an eclectic old soul, never married, never even really had a job in the last 30 years.  He kind of lived ‘off the system’ – he didn’t trust ‘the machine’.  He looked after my nan & grandad in their golden years, especially afetr my grandad had a stroke 15 years ago, and then died from a second one 4 months later.

He has spent the majority of his time looking after my nan (who is now 93) and so many times she has said “I don’t know how I’d live without him!”.  He was 65.

In the past few years, my parents have spent a lot of time round my nan and uncle’s, my dad taking him out to go shopping etc.  A few days before he died, my mum said he wasn’t looking very well.  On my birthday when I spoke to him, he said his back was playing him up a bit.  A few days later I spoke to him again and he said he was still having trouble with his back and that he was getting old. i told him ‘tosh’ – he had never been old…a grumpy old man perhaps, but never old in mind.  He asked me if I could get him a Yello CD (he wouldn’t do internet shopping as he wouldn’t have a credit/debit card!).

A couple of days later, my mum parents went round and my nan said to them “Dave’s still upstairs, he’s not feelign too good”.  My mum went upstairs and said he was sitting on the end of his bed, with a fan heater on him full blast but was cold and shivering.  She told him he HAD to get the emergency doctor in.

He said “I know…but I’ve played this one all wrong.  I thought I knew what was up with me, but I think it’s actually something far more serious…and Jan, I think I’ve left it too late.”  They called an ambulance a couple of hours later.  He lost consciousness on the way to the hospital.  They tried to resuscitate him for over an hour.  He died from multiple organ failure and double pneumonia.  They think he’d had a heart attack a couple of weeks before.

He never said anything to anyone.

My little family is still reeling.  Obviously we have had to come to terms with the shock, but also my poor nan has been scared about what’s to happen to her.  she’s 93, with diabetes, a gammy leg, can only see out of one eye, has lost her sole carer and has outlived the second out of her three children.  We’ve all been taking it in turns to be there for her which has been rather draining for all involved, and has also put a major guilt trip on me as I am the only one who works full time (one cousin runs his own business part time, mum & dad retired, other cousin doesn’t work), so always feel that I’m doing the least for her!

I arranged a lot of the funeral though, which I thought would help me as I knew what was coming up next…and then my mum stood up and spoke, and the tears flowed, unstoppable.  My uncle was a creative – he was a photographer, he was a watchmaker, a geologist, an atheist, an intellectual, an astronomer, a jeweller, he played the piano, the guitar, the harmonica and the accordian – I didn’t realise he could also play the ukulele (unlike my recent crap attempts to learn this year!). i liked the fact that the priest had to say the words “extraterrestrial geology” during the service – and that I chose ‘I vow to thee my country’ adapted from Jupiter, Holst’s Planets as one of the music pieces.

I didn’t know he used to be in a band in the 60s called The Vampires, and that they used to go on stage wearing long black silk cloaks with red linings, and that they were pretty successful so much that he always had loads of money from their gigs.

I DID know that he was a fantastic older brother to my mum and that she is absolutely devastated, and also more of a brother to my dad than his actual brother…so much so that my dad’s dicky heart kicked in and put him out of action for a couple of weeks out of the sheer weight of grief and I ended up having to look out for him while my mum was looking after my nan.

I also know that this was meant to be a short entry for me to get my feelings out and feel like I am facing what happened…but instead it has turned into a long ramble – which is probably fitting as he always told the best stories EVER!

My uncle died. My life was so much better for him having been such a big part of it, the world is slightly less wonderful now that he’s not here, and I never had a chance to give him his bloody Yello CD!

goodbye suki

My beautiful bright-eyed girl - less than 18 months ago

I know that I have mentioned my cat in a post on here before – and in fact it brought me quite a few Google searches – mainy from people looking for a ‘London cat lady’ for some reason. there must be some mad old bird in london somewhere who keeps all the stray cats in one area, has a house that smells of wee, wears purple and tea cosies as hats and shouts at children.

That’s not me though. Yet.

More than 20-21 years ago, my cousin’s cat had kittens. Four of them.  Me and the guy who was to become hubby #1 had just bought a house and got me a rescue cat (I don’t like cats, I’m a dog-person, but wanted a pet) and my cousin wondered if we would like one of the kittens – she had even picked one out for me!  Me and three of my friends ended up having one each.

I had the most adventurous of the lot…the one who was always trying to escape the room in the house my cousin rented, the one who climbed the laundry mountain, the one who was always hiding and pouncing out on her brother and sisters.  So when she was just a couple of days shy of 6 weeks old, we drove her from Collier Row to Gillingham (through the tunnel – no bridge at that time!) and brought her home.

The first photo I ever took of her (hence why so faded)

I remember watching her practice how to jump – leaping off the sofa and quickly turning round to see how far she’d made it, and then scrambling up and trying again.  I remember her getting stuck in the net curtains, about 7ft from the floor and dangling by 2 claws, I remember her getting shut in the fridge and how as a kitten she just generally terrorised my other cat (in a loving, mischevious way).

She has outlived two marriages, countless relationships, forgiven me for having a baby, moved 4 times, must have caught about 500+ rats/mice (but never birds as I nursed an injured bird in the first week of having her, and I think she felt they were off-limits) , fought other cats and even foxes off of her territory, annoyed the hell out of me, and generally always loved me more than anything/anyone.  No matter what, she has always been my cat.

She was never really a lap-cat and didn’t particularly like other people, gaining her the nickname of ‘Hellcat’ from my cat-loving friend who she seemed to hate for some inexplicable reason.  However, over the past 5 years or so, she’s been an old girl and mellowed out, and wanted to be closer to people and get some fuss.  She still went out every day though, leapt overhe 6ft fence and regularly brought us small rodents (or parts of them) as a token of her love.  She had even spent the past couple of years refocusing her attentions onto The Girl as she had become chief Suki-feeder.

Last night she was fine – old, yes, a little bit stumbly, yes, all fur and bones, yes – but still moaning for milk if we went in the kitchen, jumping in the bathroom sink to get us to turn the tap on and wandering around happy enough.

This morning, The Man said to me “I think it might be the end of the cat’s line – come and see”.  She was lying on the sofa, but with her head at a funny angle.  No matter what we did, she couldn’t lift her head up properly.  When I went into the kitchen, she half-slid off the sofa and attempted to follow me, but her legs kept giving up on her.  It wasn’t right. SHE wasn’t right.

We cuddled her and stroked her and had her sitting on my lap, she was purring and giving me nose-love, but she couldn’t ‘be Suki’.

The last photo I ever took of her, this morning

I had always said that as she had lasted so long with only two trips to the vet in her life (both times for fleas – once at 7 weeks and once 11 years ago) that I didn’t want her to be in pain, didn’t want to feel she wasn’t enjoying life, didn’t want to ‘keep her alive’, I had always promised myself and her that when she couldn’t maintain the life that she has always loved so much, that I would let her go with dignity.

From realisation to decision to booking to saying goodbye took less than three hours – and for that I am grateful.  Me and The Man took her together, sobbing like idiots, held her all the way, talked to her, said goodbye and held her as she went to sleep.  I am grateful that The Girl went away with her dad yesterday for a week as it is her birthday tomorrow and this would have ruined it for her.  I have asked him to prepare her for it a couple of days before she comes home so that it isn’t a shock.  I am going to make her a collage of photos to keep in her room. I have also told ex-hubby #1 who was very sad and glad she went out without declining.

RIP Suki-cat.  Miss you already.  I wish you were here to lick the tears from my face like you used to.  Thank you for all the memories, joy, laughs and entertainment.  If we get infested by rats, I am going to blame you kitten xx

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