No regrets

In June, I posted about my then impending trip to Moree to visit my grandmother. I said I would post about the country town she lives in and I intend to do that, but not today.

My grandmother was born on 17 January 1915, 3 months before Australian soldiers landed at Gallipoli. Since then she lived through two world wars, managed to get a tertiary education during the Great Depression, raised two children, taught three grandchildren to read and managed as a widow since 1985.



She had a stroke at the end of July and passed from this life on 8th August 2009. She was 94 years old and her name was Lyllian Agnes Percival (nee Orton). My trip in June was the second last time I ever saw her alive (I was able to make a journey to see her three days before she died) and the last time we ever had a conversation.

I didn't regret my decision when I made in June and in recent weeks, I have been very grateful that I had this opportunity. No matter how much I love knitting, I have no regrets.

Towards the end she had both dementia and osteoporosis and a strong trust in Jesus as her Lord. I haven't written this post for sympathy. I am sad that I will not see her again in this life. I am sad that our family will not be the same again. However, I'm not sad for her. She is no longer in pain or suffering and I will see her again in our Fathers house, where there are many rooms. (John 14:1-6).

At her funeral, each of her grandchildren shared our memories of Nanna (as she was called by all members of our family - children, children-in-law, grandchildren and grandchildren-in-law alike). I spoke about and will always remember that final Thursday when I sat by her bedside admiring her wrinkled, olive skinned, arthritis-ridden hands and marvelled at how beautiful they were to me as they had aided her throughout her 94 and a half years of life. Even now tears well up in my eyes as I write about the beauty contained in each of her fingers.