Yesterday was so hard for me, mentally. Seeing what the cancer has turned you into and hearing with my own ears that you have no idea what’s going on or what you’re saying.
I know you badly want to come home, and I’ll be honest, I would love nothing more than to be able to bring you home, wrap you in cotton wool and tell you it will be okay. I wish I could… But I would be lying, and wrapping you in cotton wool wouldn’t save you.
I want you to know that none of this is your fault. I know we’ve had disagreements and such, and that all makes sense now. Through everything you’ve always had my back, you’ve always looked out for me.
You’ve done great in reaching 80; especially as all the other women down our line didn’t live past 60+. You’ve had a great life and you’ve done so many wonderful things that I can only hope to do myself.
I’m proud of you and I love you.
In lucid moments you’ve talked about being scared of death. You have nothing to fear. Grandpop, Uncle Dennis, Jill, Great Grandad Phillipps… They’ll all be there to greet you and they’ll look after you… And don’t forget you’ll see Suki, Sophie, Sasha and Scooby again too. You can pop back in spirit and see us any time.
When that time comes, know that you are loved so much and you are never alone.
I wish I could tell you all this to your face, but I know you won’t understand and it will frustrate you. I don’t want to cause you any hurt or confusion, so I’ll post it here and hope it gets to you in the ether.
I already miss the lady you were and it breaks my heart to see what the cancer has made you become.
Love you always, Gran. K.