REFLECTIONS

Reflections

I knew I was going to die. Of course, it’s just a matter of time for all of us but I knew it was happening to me, sooner rather than later. Consequently, I had been preparing my grandchildren for the inevitability as my visits to see them became fewer.

‘This might be the last time I see you all,’ as I hugged them goodbye while trying to hold back my tears.

There was sadness and confusion as they all said goodbye, except for the eldest, whose parting words were ‘See you Nan,’ as she walked away without so much as a glance.

She was a handful and never accepted instructions without an argument, continually pushing the boundaries her parents set.  I was sure her father was to blame as he was always right about everything!  While her mother, on the other hand, had been the perfect child never causing me any trouble.

After a very tiring stay with them I was back in my comfortable, mundane lifestyle trying to remember one medical appointment from another when my daughter rang.

‘Mum, I need your help please!’ The sound of her voice shocked me to the core.

‘John's been in a car accident, and he’s seriously injured. They say he might not walk again!’ her voice waivered, ‘I need you. You’re the only one who understands the children!’

I was on my way. I couldn’t imagine her coping on her own. Not only did she have a large farm to manage on her own, but he had expected her and the children to live in a four-room hut which had no electricity or running water. I had wished better for my daughter but when I offered my opinion, she put me in my place.

‘We’re happy here Mum. John has big plans, but this is all we can afford now’.

On my arrival back at their farm I found my daughter totally exhausted by the stresses of visiting the Hospital and trying to keep livestock alive. I needed to step-up to the everyday tasks of caring for the children which I hadn’t done for a lot of years. As their grandmother I was used to having fun with them and joining in some of their games but now I was having to walk in their mother’s shoes!

The task seemed insurmountable! Three school aged children who needed meals cooked for them over a fuel stove, baths in a tub which needed hot water carted by bucket from a copper and not to mention their everyday emotional needs. I had forgotten how challenging young children could be.

I had never considered anything but quiet retirement at my age. Not in my wildest dreams would I have considered trying to coax a child who balked at every corner. Just to wash my willful granddaughter’s hair was a nightmare; WWII all over again!

‘Nan! Don’t put water on my face’, she screamed, and thrashed about as I tried to save the last bit of water in the bucket.

While serving a healthy home-grown salad for their evening meal she exploded,

‘I’m not eating beetroot, Nan, no matter what you say!’ And she didn’t.

Getting ready for school the next morning she was missing. After a frantic search I found her in the paddock with her horse.

‘I don’t like school, so I’m not going!’ she yelled at me. The school bus had run out of time and had driven off without her from the front gate. She won that battle!

‘Rebel’ should have been her name. I asked for her mother’s help, but she had no answer either. She told me she had tried taking privileges from her, but she relished in her punishment. I was at my wits end when she walked up to me as I was sitting mending a pair of their socks,

‘Can I help Nan?’

‘You certainly can,’ I replied in shock while searching for ways too include her.

Without knitting needles or wool, I set her up with a ball of string and a pair of wooden meat skewers and to my total surprise she sat down beside me and started following my instructions and began knitting me a scarf. When she had missed a stitch or had a knot in the string she would start again. At last, I discovered she loved a challenge!

She liked stories so I read her favourite stories to her by candlelight. To my surprise she began making up stories of angels flying in the soft light of the evening as it shone in through the window. Her stories sounded incredibly real, and she told me she was going to find an angel to look after us all!

A truce was called, or at least a compromise, and I could depend on her help. She watched a sheep dog die which had been bitten by a snake, and as she peered into his lifeless eye’s she looked up at me and asked,

 ‘Nan, if Ben died, where did he go?’

Without mentioning it I thought Ben had probably saved her life by killing the snake that had slithered into the yard where she had been playing.

But instead, I quickly replied, ‘Ben doesn’t need his legs anymore love, because he’s flying with those angels in the light!’

She stood in silence for a moment and then solemnly asked,

‘Nan, if you die could you be my angel in the light and be with me all the time?’

Time has passed all too quickly, and I am watching her as she sits on her bed staring at her wedding photo on her dressing table where the soft light is filtering in through the window. We had a wonderful time together at her wedding, with all the family, including her father who had learned to walk again. By then my hair was snow white and my steps were very shaky. She knew there was not much time left for me, but she still refused to say ‘goodbye’!

My granddaughter is continuing her writing. I’ve watched her career blossom as an Author, but she has never said ‘goodbye’ and still looks for me in the soft light in the evenings. Her guardian angel!