So i smile in your remembrance,
and what a time we have had. Well what a time you have had.
It is, for lack of a better word, odd when we lose someone close to us, that immediate passing and knowing you won't see them again. I can't quite fathom how sudden it is. It is also difficult to not sound so bloody negative when describing how one feels too; I am struggling.
It is a first for me today to be told I have lost someone I regard as one of the most influential people in my life. A huge love in my life, she might as well have been my biological Grandma, that is the bond we made. I won't ever forget Graces' smell, dusty roses with a hint of cotton musk is the closest I can come to as a description. It was a comfortable loving smell, and she gave the greatest hugs.
I have learnt as much from Grace as I have from my own mother, and their power over me whilst growing up was equal. The only difference I suppose was from my mother I learnt the love for cooking, being stubborn and the difficulties of our mother/daughter relationship as a teen yet from Grace i learnt the love for fashion, history and being a woman. They both taught me independence.
It was Grace who taught me how to sew as well as my first stitch on a sewing machine, which years later she then gave to me as a present when i expressed how much i wanted to be a Fashion Designer. She taught me flower pressing and the attention to detail one must give in clientelling as well as pattern cutting. Yet through all this, what i loved and will miss the most are her stories. Stories of her life.
The great lifeline tales of Grace were usually told in sections depending on what mood she was in or current news running in her family that reminded her of her past. My biggest regret is not having a notepad with me to jot everything in minute detail as she spoke. You become encumbered in a soft glaze whilst Grace talks. She has, had, this fantastic way of engaging and involving you within the story. I reckon as much as her voice it was her eyes that did this. One day it might be about her love life with Fred, her husband who had passed away over a decade ago. It was a passionate relationship more on his behalf and it was here Grace taught me "If you love him, really love him don't dare let him go". Thus it begun from such a young age my romantic quest to conquer true love. Obviously most adolescents go through that stricken heartbreaking stage of loving nearly every male in sight...I have to say mine was quite different...nevertheless that is for another time...
One day it could be about her nursing soldiers during World War II that were sent back home to be treated or her mothering ways working as Matron Guard in a womens' only prison to which she started teaching prisoners how to sew. This might've led to a story about her favorite dress her mother refused to buy her, but instead made as a surprise or how she finally became a seamstress. The flow of tales were constantly mesmerizing and I used to lose hours of the day, running back and forth occasionally to the kitchen with fresh cups of tea and biccies.
It isn't just me who has lost a fantastic woman. I feel for her family greatly and to the others in the neighbourhood she was close to as well as I. She looked after us all and in return for her listening to us and giving advice, we listened and gave back. My mother did Graces garden up and we would both cook meals to take over. Sandy, number 21, would check in as well as Carol number 46 with some cake.
For years Grace was this loving guide, from when I fell down a supposed fixed manhole when I was 10 years old, she was livid at the council - to when I had an argument in my teens with my stepdad and I cried on her shoulder - to only a few months ago I wrote her a birthday card and a letter telling her I had found the one as well as my art - she was ecstatic for me.
There is only so much you can do when you lose a loved one. I have a piece of artwork I painted to give to the family that reminded me of her. I think I've stopped with the tears for now, instead i'll try my best to remember the time we've spent together and how grateful I am to have met such a great woman; who lived at number 44.
I won't cry knowing I miss her, i'll smile knowing I always will.
