In April, I wrote about my beloved losing his grandmother, and remembered mine.
The day that my beloved’s grandmother died, we went to the retirement home to say goodbye, and for the children to see her and say goodbye. After we returned home, shell shocked, even though this had been coming for a few months. We had been given plenty of time to say goodbye. To say thank you, and our I love you’s. To prepare the children, and ourselves. But still. We returned home feeling very ungrounded. All the preparation in the world doesn’t make the actual good bye easier. It is still a good bye. For a very long time.
So after returning home, and reflecting on all the grandmothers we have lost, we decided to go to the beach. To sit and reflect and regain a semblance of balance. We walked and sat and cried and thought and reflected and saw and breathed. And the sun began setting.
I thought to myself then that this was the last sun to have seen her. The last sun that she saw and I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and took photos. To remember. And for comfort later.
But it was these photos I thought of when I first read about Connie’s project.
And it was this photo I sent.
In memory of Joan Margaret Lander.
In memory of Elizabeth Ann Smith.
In memory of Jean Whakarau White.
In memory of all our grandmothers.
And our grandfathers too.