Three months on

This is how I think it will go. Every day there will be a little less of you. We thought we lost you the moment the monitors showed the life left you but that wasn't the end of it. You were still very much here, you were everywhere, in us, our thoughts and memories and your belongings, even your body. It was like you had stepped out of the room and you were just around the corner. Now I feel we truly begin to lose you and we have to accept that with dignity and composure. Each day you slip away a little, maybe you don't flit through our minds, maybe something that was once yours simply becomes part of the scenery of our home, loses it's potency. Maybe we accept a little that you will not be back, that you aren't just in the next room, that you will never be now.
You gave me a gift in grief, I feel closer to myself than I ever have, I cut out all the distractions and felt I had less to lose than ever, and yet you brought into sudden clarity the things I could not live without. I took more risks, I made less apologies, I showed more compassion and forgiveness in grief. Grief has suited me, grief becomes me, grief means you are always close though I have lost you, while I still feel it's grip, it is your grip and you are still just on the edge of everything I do. I'm sad but I feel freer than I have in a long time. I miss you, I wish you were still here, but in your absence I feel you have given me something I needed.
Bless you Nan, my love always, Hannah

'Dear Nan'

Dear Nan, 

Your gift to us will be a quilt, that will be your legacy. A patchwork of memories that we ourselves will have to gather and with tender, meticulous care, stitch together into something we hold dear. It will keep us warm, bring us comfort and protect us when we feel the weight of the world is on our shoulders. 

Some patches may be worn, frayed and threadbare, we may have to turn to others to lend us their memories and a needle and thread, or share our own patches with others should their quilts need tending. 

And yet, no two quilts will be the same, each will be as unique as the individual who pieces them together, we each knew you in our own way, and while you were loved by us all, you were a different person to each of us.

Some patches will be plain, faded or dull, yet these we may treasure the most. Your smile, your laugh, the tissue crumpled in your hand, opening your letters with a miniature sword, the smell of cinnamon and spice in the air. 

Some patches will be bright, patterned and embroidered, embellished with appliqué, a photo of you wearing a christmas jumper and a batman mask, offering me the skin off your back, telling me "they're a bit special' with a cheeky smile and the way you could belt out any song from any musical with all the finesse of a seasoned pub singer. 

Some patches will be dark, for there is no light without the dark and you were a whole person. I feel lucky that we had our struggles, as it was only through knowing both your triumphs and your flaws, that I could come to love you for who you really are. 

But, at the heart of my quilt, I will remember your acceptance. I will remember your grace in acknowledging your mistakes, the way you protected me when others could not understand and the way you never stopped learning and growing. They are the threads that will run through my quilt, they are the stitches that will hold the rest together.

Nan, I will miss you with all my heart, you will leave a gap in my life; an empty chair, but I promise I will not forget and your quilt will keep me warm, 

With love always, 

Hannah xx