Nanna...

I guess I should start out by saying I miss you. It just doesn’t seem like it is enough though. I miss everything; I miss how life was when you were around. Your presence alone made everything seem okay. Every day I wake up and I live my life trying to prove to the world, to you, that I am capable of being mature and sensible in my decisions. It is so hard. I just want you to come home and tell me that it’s okay. I need you to hug me and tell me you forgive me. I don’t want to live with the regret and guilt anymore.

You know, I think of you every day. I find myself idly stroking my right arm constantly, just letting myself get lost in the memories. Do you remember the day you bought me some play-doh, even though you knew Mam would have a stroke? Or that Christmas that I bought you the ballerina bear and you laughed at his tutu? Do you remember how you used to let me run through the sheets when you were hanging them on the washing line? Or how you used to let me ask silly questions about the alphabet? I do. I remember it all so well that I sometimes make myself believe that it is all real again; that you are still here. I can still smell that familiar scent. I can still hear you singing our song. I still let myself be comforted by you.

The day you died, I broke. I stopped being myself and told myself I would never let myself be that hurt by someone going again. I was hurt, and I hate to admit it, but I was angry. I was angry with myself, I was angry with Granda and I was angry with you. You were the one that taught me that God would always be here for me. You promised me he would help me through anything and never let anything bad happen to me. The day you died, it felt like he turned his back on me. I know you would tell me I was being silly, but I was heart-broken. You were the only one that was always there. You were the only thing I could ever rely on completely. You still are. Without you and what you taught me, I would be a different person. I don’t think anyone will ever comprehend how much I adore you. You are my heart and my fears encompassed into one and I wear you on my sleeve. You’re probably shaking your head at my tattoos but, it just means I can have you with me forever; exactly where I need you.

I am so sorry. I am sorry for not being strong enough to be there when you needed me to be. I am sorry I let my own selfish emotion get in the way of showing you that I love you. There isn’t a single day that goes by that I don’t feel the sting of guilt and self disgust about that night. I tried. I know I didn’t try hard enough, but I was literally being torn in two. I wanted to run. I was right there. I can only hope that you know that. I didn’t completely abandon you. I was at the door, I was merely steps away, but I couldn’t stop the tears. I am sorry for every moment of shame I may have brought upon you. I lost my way. I was selfish and I know that everything I have done is a complete contradiction to the morals you gave me. I can never really explain what I done, I just felt sorry for myself. Everything that happened after you left was battering me from every angle; nothing was easy. I wanted to be as strong as possible. I wanted to show people that I could be everything that was expected of me. I hated feeling so fragile.

Even when I needed someone to help me the most, I would never admit to it. I could have saved myself more bloodshed than I care to mention had I let anyone see how much I was hurting but I just couldn’t. No one ever got that close to me. I’m starting to trust people more now. I still refuse to let myself be vulnerable but I am getting better. I still need your help, though. Do you remember telling me I was beautiful? I believed you for so long. No one else told me that as a kid, ever. It is silly but I always felt so mature when you told me that; so grown up. I lost the ability to accept that compliment when you died. I self destructed on so many different levels. Even now, I can’t believe it. How could I, someone so capable of inflicting pain, be in anyway beautiful?

There is so much that I wish I could tell you. There are so many people I want you to meet and so much that I need you to be proud of. I didn’t run away from home, I am doing what I think is best for my own life and I hope you can see that. Maybe I should be at home to help fix things, but I am sick of being the one that is left with the mess. I don’t want to have to fight other people’s battles for a while. I will always go back. I will never abandon anyone, but until they truly need me I need to try and fix my own path; I’m using the first gift you gave me. I only ever want to make you proud and atone for every mistake I have ever made. I hope that someday you can forgive me; that you can see that I never meant for it to be this way. Every single thing I do is for that purpose. You are my hero and I don’t think there is a single person that has ever touched my life like you did. Every single time I have that dream, it kills another part of me. I can’t keep losing you - the pain is too strong; even now, the tears are laced with acid and sting just as much as they did that day.

Thank you... for everything. Thank you for loving me when I thought no one could. Thank you for the gift of language. Thank you for every kiss and every hug - for every comfort. Thank you for being there for me when I needed you. Thank you for your innocence and for your strength. You know even the doctors were amazed at how long you fought. They gave you 12 hours and of course you had to prove them wrong by giving us all 72. I wouldn’t have expected anything less.

Thank you for giving Granda back his will to fight. I don’t know how you done it but I can’t explain how happy it has made me. I need him more than ever. I need him to keep the memories of that house alive for me. I know he is a cranky bastard but I idolise him. I’m growing up to be just like him, and I grin every time I am told that. The two of you gave me so much; I literally owe everything to you.

Thank you for giving me back my will to fight. You are the solitary reason I refuse to waste a single moment of my life anymore. I want to love and be loved. I want to experience everything I can. I want to trust and see the best in people. I’m trying. Even now, I fight the urge to just pack up and run; to destroy another vital part of my life. I won’t though. I won’t prove the rest of them right.

Most of all, I want to thank you for your belief in me. You gave me the time I needed to learn new things and you always were the one to encourage me. You saw whatever potential there was and tried to show me. I know I didn’t see it for so long but I am starting to now. Your belief is my strength, and I know I could never have gotten this far without it.

Happy Birthday, Nanna. The only gift I can give you is to represent you down here; to be the best I can be. The next time I see you I want you to be proud of me, of who I am becoming. You weren’t just my grandmother – you were my first best friend, you were my secret keeper, you were my teacher and sometimes even my mother. I will be forever grateful for being allowed the opportunity of knowing you.
I love you, never think that I ever didn’t.

I miss you and can’t wait to see you again,
Kerri x