I've mentioned in my previous FAQ blog that my Nan is one of the most inspirational women in my life and that's because she is so amazing. She's been through hell and back and is still such a strong woman who still gives all the love she can to everyone. One of the things she had to go through is losing her son.
My Uncle committed suicide at the age of 27, 29 years ago. I never knew him, I only know him through my family. I don't know the exact details surrounding his death and what pushed him to take his own life, I just know that one day he couldn't take it anymore. It's always been a little weird for me because my whole life my Uncle has been referred to, my cousin Mark is even named after him but I obviously never had the chance to meet him or his two sons, Darren and Stephen. My Nan always told me how troubled he was as a boy and how it carried on into his adulthood and eventually lead to his death. Whenever he's mentioned I can see the hurt in my Nan's eyes and in her voice when she talks about him. She had to bury her son, he died before his time and it's something she will never get over. I wish I could take away the pain but I can't. Mark was her son and no one could save him. It's a tragedy really.
Anyway, it's coming up to his birthday this month, I believe he would his 56th birthday if he was still alive. At Christmas and his birthday my Nan and Aunt, Karen, like to go to his grave to pay their respects and put new fabric flowers down on his grave. I've never been before and my Nan asked me to take her and Karen down to do this. They only go a couple of times because the taxi down there is so expensive for them both. I was a bit nervous at first because obviously I've never been and I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know if my Nan would cry or if the cemetery would be very morbid and depressing, what happened there was not something I ever thought would happen.
Mark's grave is in Aylesham on top of a massive hill, kinda in the middle of no where. We walked around to his grave and to get to his actual stone we had to walk on some grass. My Nan recently had a nasty fall so she's really quite worried about falling over again, so she asked to hold my hand for support. I haven't held my Nan's hand like that in around 15 years. We hug and we kiss and stuff like that but I haven't held her hand like that in such a long time. It really struck me how comfortable and natural it felt. I haven't really held a family members hand like that for ages, I've held boyfriends and friends hands like that but not a relative. I just couldn't help notice the difference between holding her hand versus holding a boyfriend or friends hand. I felt so incredibly safe and I became quite overwhelmed with emotion.
The feeling of holding my Nan's hand is something that I can hardly describe, but I felt so safe and as though nothing could ever hurt me. It was so wonderful to be able to do it when I am 20 and not a kid. I feel like I appreciated the closeness and intimacy of it a lot more than I ever have done before. I felt almost like I had taken those times that I held her hand for granted when I was a child. My Nan means the world to me and to be able to hold her hands again like I was a kid felt so amazing. I've held kids hands at work and lead them around so I know what it's like to be the safety figure and the comfort for them but for me to go back into the role of a child and feel the comfort from my Nan was incredible. It was so special and I will never ever forget that feeling. It made me wonder when I decided as a child that I no longer needed to hold her hand or when I felt I was too cool to. As a grandparent and a mother you have to let your kids and grand-kids go almost with the whole holding hand thing is something that interested me. Knowing that you may never hold their hand again like that, I really wonder how that feels from that perspective. I guess I'll find out when I become a parent myself.
We got to my Uncle's grave and I just stood there with my Nan while Karen sorted out the flowers and cleaned the grave stone. I had to hold back the tears. I have never seen my Nan more quiet and sad in my life. She kissed her hand and placed it on the top of the grave then whispered "I'll always love you and never forget you". We only stayed there for about ten minutes before looking around the cemetery but I became just... overwhelmed I guess with all this emotion from holding my Nan's hand and then seeing her so broken and hurt still 29 years on from her sons death. The writing on his grave was beautiful too, I can't remember exactly what it said but it was along the lines of not being able to say goodbye and wishing they were there to hold him with his last breath. It was such a beautiful quote and I wish I could remember it, but I thought it wasn't appropriate to take my phone out and write it down or take a picture of the grave stone.
This visit to the cemetery just made me think so much about things, suicide in particular. There were several times in my life a few years ago, where I tried to end my own life, unsuccessfully, of course. That could have been my mother in 29 years time coming to my grave to place flowers for my birthday. It was 29 years ago and my Nan is still hurting and heartbroken over it all. When you do something as drastic as taking your own life you don't see the path of despair and destruction you leave behind you. It's a very selfish act, and it's so sad that people get to that stage, I know what it's like to be at that stage and you are thinking of no one but yourself. You just want to be free of the torture you are suffering. The one huge thing I took from it was that I was never, ever going to let my Mum go through what my Nan has to go through every single day. My Nan always tells me that she always wonders what life would be like if Mark were still alive and she always misses him. I can't imagine the pain she goes through and I don't want to ever make my mother feel the pain of losing her only daughter.
A bit of a morbid and sad one today I'm afraid, but this small visit had such an effect on me that I just had to talk about it. I probably didn't talk about it in the most coherent way and didn't get everything that I wanted to get out, out, but I said it in the best way I could and I hope you guys get the general gist of what I'm trying to say.
Stay awesome.
The feeling of holding my Nan's hand is something that I can hardly describe, but I felt so safe and as though nothing could ever hurt me. It was so wonderful to be able to do it when I am 20 and not a kid. I feel like I appreciated the closeness and intimacy of it a lot more than I ever have done before. I felt almost like I had taken those times that I held her hand for granted when I was a child. My Nan means the world to me and to be able to hold her hands again like I was a kid felt so amazing. I've held kids hands at work and lead them around so I know what it's like to be the safety figure and the comfort for them but for me to go back into the role of a child and feel the comfort from my Nan was incredible. It was so special and I will never ever forget that feeling. It made me wonder when I decided as a child that I no longer needed to hold her hand or when I felt I was too cool to. As a grandparent and a mother you have to let your kids and grand-kids go almost with the whole holding hand thing is something that interested me. Knowing that you may never hold their hand again like that, I really wonder how that feels from that perspective. I guess I'll find out when I become a parent myself.
We got to my Uncle's grave and I just stood there with my Nan while Karen sorted out the flowers and cleaned the grave stone. I had to hold back the tears. I have never seen my Nan more quiet and sad in my life. She kissed her hand and placed it on the top of the grave then whispered "I'll always love you and never forget you". We only stayed there for about ten minutes before looking around the cemetery but I became just... overwhelmed I guess with all this emotion from holding my Nan's hand and then seeing her so broken and hurt still 29 years on from her sons death. The writing on his grave was beautiful too, I can't remember exactly what it said but it was along the lines of not being able to say goodbye and wishing they were there to hold him with his last breath. It was such a beautiful quote and I wish I could remember it, but I thought it wasn't appropriate to take my phone out and write it down or take a picture of the grave stone.
This visit to the cemetery just made me think so much about things, suicide in particular. There were several times in my life a few years ago, where I tried to end my own life, unsuccessfully, of course. That could have been my mother in 29 years time coming to my grave to place flowers for my birthday. It was 29 years ago and my Nan is still hurting and heartbroken over it all. When you do something as drastic as taking your own life you don't see the path of despair and destruction you leave behind you. It's a very selfish act, and it's so sad that people get to that stage, I know what it's like to be at that stage and you are thinking of no one but yourself. You just want to be free of the torture you are suffering. The one huge thing I took from it was that I was never, ever going to let my Mum go through what my Nan has to go through every single day. My Nan always tells me that she always wonders what life would be like if Mark were still alive and she always misses him. I can't imagine the pain she goes through and I don't want to ever make my mother feel the pain of losing her only daughter.
A bit of a morbid and sad one today I'm afraid, but this small visit had such an effect on me that I just had to talk about it. I probably didn't talk about it in the most coherent way and didn't get everything that I wanted to get out, out, but I said it in the best way I could and I hope you guys get the general gist of what I'm trying to say.
Stay awesome.
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