Far Better than a Funeral

How many times have you been to a funeral and said or heard the following?

                It’s been lovely to see you again 

                                     – pity it’s under these circumstances.

We really should meet up more often.

          _______ would have really enjoyed this!

    It’s such a shame we don’t make the effort to all get together.

Life goes through many stages. In our school days there are lots of birthday parties with jelly and ice cream. They make way for teenage discos usually followed by a spate of weddings. Costly affairs with detailed planning months in advance.

Eventually, in families or friendship groups, everyone we know is paired up and grown up with families of their own. The get-togethers become fewer and far between.  Real life just gets in the way.

Until we reach an age when our social calendar is dotted with funerals. They inevitably come at short notice and although sad occasions there is often a lot of joy at meeting up with old friends and family.

Now my mother has always been someone who loves getting the family together. She and my dad make an effort each year to hold what they call “The AGM”, an annual meeting of dad’s brothers and sisters. Petty differences are set aside and they have an enjoyable afternoon together catching up on the family gossip.

It’s far rarer to get my mum’s side of the family together but last weekend was a great exception.

My aunt and uncle, who emigrated to New Zealand when I was five, are currently in the UK for a visit. For a long time my nana who is 85 has wanted to meet up again with her only living sister who is 91.

Probably the real catalyst to our gathering was the untimely deaths we have experienced lately. My great aunt lost a daughter from breast cancer a couple of years ago while my nana lost her son to bowel cancer. I think we’ve all been made aware how precious life is and this was a good opportunity to meet up for something other than a funeral and celebrate.

The last time I remember seeing my great aunt was when I was 16, and that’s too many years ago to count!

Tonight Dallas is back on our TV screens for the first time in over 20 years. Family dramas don’t get any more glitzier but times have moved on and now we are going to find out what happens to the next generation of Ewings.

But every family has stories, real stories. My mum dug out the old photos and as the two sisters reminisced we learned more about our family in one afternoon than we already knew in a lifetime.

My generation got to establish our own roots as I got to catch up with my brother and cousin. Meanwhile our own children played together making new memories.

Here’s a new photo to add to the family album, a photo we can all share so easily in this digital age.

 

It is a photo of two sisters with their daughters, their nephews and my nana’s three grandchildren. All of us sharing microscopic strands of DNA that link us together and make us blood related.

However it is sharing our time together, our common memories, that makes us a family and in my mind a very special one.

When we next meet, in whatever circumstance, in tears or celebration, we will fondly look back and remember our happy day.

Sleeping Partners

Last night, as seems to happen more and more, I had another little body in my bed. 

The slightest hint of an upset and youngest son picks up his pillow and soft toys and lies down on his dad’s side of the bed.

It still is very much Andrew’s side and it’s rare I stretch out from my own cosy corner. 

 

We have a super king size bed, two single mattresses zipped together. So that’s one mattress each with a definitive dividing line down the middle.

At Christmas we stayed with my parents, so did my Nana. On Christmas night my brother and his 3 year old son slept over too.

Bed space was at a premium. I had already been given the guest room with double bed, en suite, mum’s laptop and newly acquired, especially for Christmas viewing, TV. No one was evicting me from my luxurious bolt hole!

Mum assured me I wouldn’t have to give up my bed but…

“I’m going to put Nana in with you.”

“OK” I said with a little trepidation.

Andrew and I always struggled with sharing this bed; it was so much smaller than the grand one at home. He would always take up at least two thirds leaving me clinging to the edge. There was no slight bump in the centre to let him know he had strayed onto my territory. We never slept well in it together – well at least I never did.

Now my nana is eighty four and often gets up several times in the night – so I never expected a restful sleep.

She retired before me and when I finally said goodnight my Mum asked me to check Nana had switched off the electric blanket.

I was so sleepy that by the time I had brushed my teeth, written my diary and got into bed I completely forgot.  That is until 3 a.m. when I suddenly woke up.

Nana was beside me lying still and quiet. I had no recollection of her waking at all – unusual – I thought.

Now at 3 a.m. all sorts of rubbish goes round your head mixed up with all the sensible stuff.

I suddenly remembered the electric blanket!

As far as I was aware Nana hadn’t moved all night.

I listened but couldn’t hear her breathing.

What if I’d over cooked my Nana???

Still more pressing was the need for a wee, after which I reasoned, with my 3 a.m. head on, I would be able to assess the situation rationally.

By the light of the en suite I checked the blanket was off.

Thankfully it was.   

Then Nana breathed and softly stirred in her sleep.

PHEW!

Another middle of the night crisis averted.

It may be lovely to have someone close at hand to snuggle next to and I very much enjoyed my cuddle this morning with youngest son but there are times when I am very glad I have a whole big bed to myself!