I had watched her fade away from the beautiful, strong lady that used to pick me up from school, take me on magical day trips to the countryside and teach me how to bake.
In truth, I am completely heartbroken. I feel as though my childhood has died with her, and nothing will ever make it right.
Grief is a strange feeling, it almost creeps up on you when you least expect it. One minute you're fine, the next, a trigger of a memory can have you uncontrollably weeping in the toilets of a supermarket (yes, this has happened).
I miss her so much. Sometimes so much that I feel like I can't breathe.
As the weeks pass, I'm constantly trying to remember all of the little things.
Her voice, her perfume, her laugh.
I've found that losing someone close has made me more conscious of my own life. It's a cliche to say but life really is only a finite number of days. Some get longer than others but ultimately, the choices we make and the life that we live defines who we are. If this whole experience has taught me anything, it's that life is precious and all that really matters is to be happy.
If you hate the way in which your life is headed, then change it.
If you love somebody, tell them.
When you break it down the answers are simple. It's just that life has a funny way of complicating things.
I'll cherish every moment that I spent with her. I'll treasure her memory, her wonderful wartime stories and all of the precious things she taught me. (Although I am yet to master the art of crocheting, despite her best efforts, sorry gran!)
The best thing we can do is to look after each other, be good people and pay it forward.
Life is too short.
I'd like to dedicate this post to my darling grandma, I'll love you forever.