Higher than hope.

I was kinda hoping that I'd get some time to write about what was happening before it actually happened.

This has been going on for maybe three weeks, but it all ended yesterday.

On Sunday night we all stopped over for food at my auntie's house, where my other auntie from Norfolk (The bit of Southern England that sticks out like a big round boob) was staying for a couple of days. My Norfolk auntie is mad. Totally manic. I love her insanely, she's got such infectious enthusiasm. My grandma told me a few weeks ago (when I was marvelling over the fact she'd drank a bottle of whisky in two hours and was totally normal) that her and my Norfolk auntie spent some awesome times with my uncle Ozzy (surname: Osbourne. I shit you not) scoring acid in the woods.

Anyway, on Sunday night my Norfolk auntie said at the end of a fabulous meal (my mum and both of my aunties have all been chefs at some point: win) "Let's just hope she goes without pain and that she isn't suffering anymore, because we all have to go sometime, sweethearts".

My grandma, my badass, awesome grandma, was put into a hospice temporarily a few weeks ago whilst they sorted her meds out (she'd forget to take them). About four days in they decided that she'd probably be in for a bit longer than they thought.

About a week ago my mum came home saying that Grandma had days left. I've tried to visit everyday since then. My first thought when I saw her was that she looked like she was melting (don't judge, my mind doesn't function on a courteous level). She's always had a fighting spirit, and when she wasn't strong enough to stay sat up in her wheelchair/bed she'd still ask to get out. When no one would let her out of bed (for her own sake) she threatened to shit in her bed unless they let her out (you can SO tell that we were related). She won that round.

This morning I left school after an hour feeling God-awful. I'm trying to be helpful, I look after my sister, nieces and nephew whilst my mum, aunts and brother run around after Grandma, I clean the house, cook food, go to work, do homework, sleep for Not Very Long and then go to school, and it's been the same for maybe three weeks. Totally worn out.

At about 3pm today my mum called and said she was going to drop by the hospice after work and then we'd go buy some food. I almost asked to go with her but I thought that'd be too fussy, so I stayed at home. 1 and a half hours later I got another call. Mum in tears saying grandma had died.




I had no idea what I was doing. I paced backwards and forwards trying to work out if I was going to cry or not, I thought about phoning BFF Main Gay.5, I thought about trying to call my dad. In the end I went to pick my sister up from school. I had to deliver the news.

And now I feel quiet. And sad, somewhere in the background. Anxious too, slightly, because I have to take time off school to sort stuff out. But I'm glad that she's not fighting anymore.

But now my mum owns grandma's house. Her and my sister are going to move in there, and me and my dad are going to stay where we live now. Dad'll be away for weeks at a time and I'll be more or less living on my own at age sixteen.

Scary potatoes.

Kathleen Rosemary Rogerson: 1st of Febuary, aged 70.

"Time, it took the most of me
And left me with no key
To unlock the chest of remedy."

Higher Than Hope - Nightwish