Diary of A Modern Gran | Top Of The Family Tree

By Allison Hay

Illustration: Istockphoto

There is no easy way of saying this. Shortly after writing the final line of last week’s column, my 99-year-old father passed away in his sleep.

I was lucky enough to be by his bedside because it so happened that I’d arrived the previous day for my usual weekly visit.

He was sound asleep so I sat by his side during the afternoon and evening, talking to him. Remembering the advice from the stranger on the station last week, I continued chatting even though there was no response. I spoke to him about things we had done and I told him that I was here and that I loved him. When I ran out of things to say, I resorted to tapping away on my laptop, still by his side. Now that seems dreadful but at the time it helped to calm me too.

How I’d wished he would wake up so we could talk.

When I returned the next morning, he was still asleep. The staff then gently told me that it might not be long. I called my sister who had only just left and then sat by his side in silent shock along with my stepmother who lives two floors above in the care home.

Half an hour later, we realised his chest was no longer rising.

I want to be able to say that I cried but the tears wouldn’t come. I felt a mixture of disbelief; gratitude that he was no longer in pain; and also a huge cavernous emptiness. Something inside me had left at the same time that the breath had left my father’s body.

I held my stepmother’s hand, as she gently stroked his face. Then I opened the window, remembering the belief that one needed to do that to let the soul out. At the same time, I said a prayer and then went outside in the corridor to ring my sister and then my children.

I was touched by my children’s concern for me. “Are you alright. Mum?” they all said from their various homes ranging from the UK to Spain.

“Yes,” I said because that’s what you tell your children. Then I tried to console them because he had, after all, been their grandfather. Not the kind of cuddly warm grandad that you read about in fairy tales or that some of my friends have had. My father’s love was quieter. But he would often ring them – especially my eldest son in Spain during lockdown to check he was alright. He also loved seeing Rose and George who had come down for his 99th tea party in August. And he’d also enjoyed meeting my youngest son’s girlfriend.

He was not as involved as I am with my grandchildren. But grandparents come in all shapes and sizes, both mentally and physically. My father had been a teenager during the war years when you adopted a stiff upper lip.

I remember feeling completely at sea when my mother died 36 years ago at the age of 56. My eldest two children were just three and one then. The youngest hadn’t been born. I was amongst the first of my friendship circle to lose a parent.

Now that I am 67, most of my friends’ parents are dead. I know I am lucky that my father survived this long. He thought he could go on forever and he’d almost convinced us that he was going to reach at least 100 and maybe a couple more years or so.

It’s a strange feeling to realise that age-wise, you are now at the top of the family tree. I don’t actually feel old enough to have this responsibility. Does that sound crazy?

What we do know is that our stepmother will need us. In the space of a month, she’s moved out of her home into a care home and has also lost her husband.

There’s also so much to organise. As I write, I’m about to put together some poems and favourite hymns for the service.

I’ve suggested that the children might like to write and read out some memories of their grandfather. “I’m going to talk about the time I met up with Grandad for a pint in London,” jokes my youngest son.

Meanwhile, the care home staff have been wonderful to my stepmother. They’ve encouraged her to go to the various events they put on such as a wonderful concert given by a lovely young woman singing old favourites by Vera Lynn and many others. I sat in the room, watching all these elderly faces showing various emotions. They seemed to range from joy to wistfulness at what had been or might have been in their lives.

I have to say that it was a relief to go home to normality. When I collected Rose and George from the school run, they flung their arms around me. “Are you alright, Gan Gan?,” asked Rose. “Is it okay now you don’t have a mummy or a daddy?’ added George.

“Yes,” I say. “I know he’s in heaven.”

My belief helps me. But so too does the fact that I have my little family. I need to set an example. I want them to think positively when it’s my turn to go.

Meanwhile, my father’s death is another reminder that life is to be lived. Even before the virus, he was scared of going outside in case something happened.

Fear is not a good way to live your life. So I’m going to go forward with a new sense of courage.

It’s the greatest gift I can give my children and grandchildren.

Ask Agony Gran

“My daughter and her partner have just bought a puppy. My grandchildren have been asking for one for ages.

“We never had dogs when my daughter was growing up and she always felt she’d missed out.

“The truth is that I’m not very keen on them. I was bitten by one when I was younger. And now they want me to walk the puppy when it’s my day to have the children after school.

“I’ve told them I’m not very keen but they said it’s easy. All I have to do is keep him on the lead. Have you got any advice. I’m meant to be starting next week.”

Jill from Warwickshire

Jane says:

Thanks for getting in touch, Jill. I have to say that I think your daughter and her partner are asking quite a lot. I’m sorry you had such a horrible experience when you were younger. Dogs can be a wonderful addition to our family, as I know personally. But if it isn’t for you, you should not be blackmailed emotionally. If it was me, I’d ask them to make other arrangements. There are plenty of dog walkers around although they will cost money. Maybe a neighbour could do it. The point is that this is not your responsibility in my view. I’m also wondering if you how you feel about clearing up puppy ‘accidents’ like puddles when it’s your granny day. All this needs discussing too.

Having said that, you might find that you warm to the puppy. You could even find yourself enjoying dog training and the company that a dog provides. As I write this, our dog is sitting by my side. Finally, try checking out www.rspca.org.uk.

Family News Flash

The Covid-19 pandemic is having a “lasting impact” on the health and wellbeing of children, health visitors have warned in a new report.

Personal and social skills have been affected as well as personal development.

Have you noticed a change in your grandchildren? Do let us know on moderngran@dctmedia.co.uk.

They Funny Things They Say

Thank you to Jill for sending this in.

“The other day I lost my door keys but then I found them. ‘Thank goodness for that,’ I said to my eight-year-old granddaughter.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “My mum lost some weight but then she got it back again.”

Jill from Manchester

If your grandchildren have done or said something funny, do email us at moderngran@dctmedia.co.uk

Children’s Book of the Week

Each week I’ll highlight a wonderful story book to enjoy with your grandkids. This time, non-fiction. A classic for children – and a great Christmas present.

Book of World Records & Quiz, £6, available from Amazon.

Who can answer the most questions? A great way to learn and have fun!

If you would like to suggest a book of the week, please email us on moderngran@dctmedia.co.uk

Love Reading?

Jane Corry is a journalist and novelist. She’s also a six-times Sunday Times bestseller. Her novels are published by Penguin. If you haven’t read her before, you might like to try her first novel, My Husband’s Wife, about a young lawyer who goes into prison to defend an “innocent” murderer. Available as a paperback, digitally and on audio £7.99. You can get a free short story and bookmark by signing up to Jane’s mailing list. Visit www.janecorryauthor.com.