My Grandma, for many years, kept herself free of all the usual medical conditions that come with age. But in 2023, she had surgery. Then, in autumn that same year, she experienced surgical complications, and ended up in hospital. She was moved from one hospital to another, which coincidentally was the same hospital where I was born, and was there for Christmas. We had planned to spend Christmas with Grandma, but now we were without her, although we did go to her flat anyway. We went to visit her in hospital on Christmas Eve.
Around that time, I was still dealing with the trauma of what went on in a job that I’d recently left. Grandma’s illness prevented me from fully healing from that.
It was made worse by the fact that Grandma was heavily involved in caring for me growing up. I’m also autistic, and she provided me with a lot of support even as an adult. She was always a stabilising influence in my life (I also have a history of mental health issues, to the point that I have said “If my mind were a town, it would be Blackpool”).
Grandma was discharged from hospital, but her energy levels were significantly reduced. She couldn’t drive any more, which was a very big blow to her. Even a trip to the garden centre was a challenge for her, even though we had a wheelchair for her.
I used to go over to her flat once a week to give her her dinner and help her out with some other things. I used to be able to talk to her, be open with her, and she continued to provide emotional support.
But then Grandma experienced a deterioration in her condition and was hospitalised again in December 2024. This time, she was discharged in time for Christmas. However, she was receiving oxygen treatment - she had a machine that extracted oxygen from the air and supplied it to her through nasal tubes. So we couldn’t light the fire or any candles, or flambé the Christmas pudding. It was clear that this would be her last Christmas.
I also spent New Year’s Eve at Grandma’s flat, as I had done many times before during my childhood. We re-watched some old family videos, including one of my Grandad (who died in 2016) pretending to be Santa Claus at Christmas in 2001.
During January 2025, my mental state deteriorated further. I even briefly had thoughts of suicide.
I felt a bit better when I went and stayed overnight at Grandma’s flat. This would be my last overnight stay there.
But Grandma got worse and worse. Eventually, she didn’t have the energy to even get out of bed any more.
I went to visit Grandma for what would ultimately be the last time on 19 February 2025. At this stage, she was in a state of semi-consciousness, and it was clear that she could go at any time.
I go to church every Sunday, and the church I attend offers a prayer ministry for anyone with personal prayers. I attended that on 23 February 2025, and placed Grandma’s fate into the hands of the Lord, praying that Jesus would take her into his all-forgiving arms.
Grandma died at about midday the following day. She was 85 years old. I initially felt that I was prepared when she died, but her death left a great void in my life, a vast emptiness. It really hit me a couple of months later.
I used to think that, of all of my grandparents, Grandma had the best chance of living to be 100. Now she won’t see me getting married, or even meet whoever my future wife will be.
