Greif - A Ticking Time Bomb

On the 22nd of February 2016, my Grandmother Louise Pearson died.




When you tell people that one of your Grandparents has died, it brings up this image of a frail elderly person, and this idea that it was their time to go and that it was expected, that you would be ready or prepared to lose that person. I was not ready.

The reason I am writing this entry is for my own sanity, I am so angry and exhausted, and feel like throwing an adult tantrum on a daily basis. My family and I have been so busy with the arrangements and dealing with the aftermath that the grief hasn't set in yet for any of us, and it feels like a ticking time bomb, like at any point I could just break down and feel like someone has punched me in the gut.

I am angry that the last time I could have spoken to my Grandma was robbed of me because of the cold, the cold... like are you f*cking serious, a common cold is what ruined what could have been my last conversation with her.

By the time my cold had passed and I was allowed into the Hospice, I received the biggest shock of my life. I couldn't keep my composure, I crumbled. The woman lying in that bed was not the woman who I had grown up with. This woman was frail, her face was gaunt, her teeth were removed, she looked like someone who did not have long left. My dad held me as I cried, I couldn't cope with the situation. My boyfriend who has lost his grandfather was better prepared, he sat and held her hand and spoke to her like normal, knowing that although she was in a deep sleep she could still hear us. Sam was my rock, I sat on the other side of the bed. I was scared to touch her, she looked so fragile, I couldn't speak for fear of breaking down. Eventually I worked myself up to run my fingers up and down her arm. As we left that night I didn't think I would see her again, but she fought hard and I got to spend the next six days with her.

Over those next few days I found it easier to deal with, I stayed strong for my mother and my uncle. I held her hand, I spoke to her about memories and what I had been up to. I played her favourite music on my phone next to her pillow. Her breathing became irregular, her arms began to get cold, her pain relief was increased as the cancer spread. On Sunday the 21st I decided to spend the night at the hospice with my mum as my dad was down in Manchester picking up my brother who was arriving from Vegas. I asked Sam to stay as I needed his support so that I could support my mum. That night my uncle slept as he had done the past few nights, on the chair next to her bed so she would never be alone. My mum, Sam and I slept in the family room in the hospice.

Just after 5:30am on Monday morning the nurse knocked on our door. I knew why. I walked through the corridors, I approached the room, the door was closed and I was scared to open it. The nurse told me to go on in. I walked in and looked at my grandma. She didn't look any different, she just wasn't breathing anymore. My uncle hugged me telling me she was at peace now and I could feel the weight of his grief as he hugged me. My mum kissed her head and stroked her hair, I was numb, I felt like it wasn't real, like it wasn't my grandmother in that bed. I said my goodbye and kissed her now cooling head.


My grandmother was not an old woman, she was an active, adventurous, funny, party loving lady who still had so much living to do. Cancer has robbed her of so many years of fun. She was only a few years into her retirement and I don't care if I sound childish, it's just not fair. It's not fair that someone who was so loving, caring and giving is taken from us in such an awful way.

She is no longer in pain, she fought her cancer with everything she had but unfortunately it was just too much.

So here I am now, the funeral is over, we are working through all the paperwork and emptying her house, trying to get through it all, knowing that grief is following us, getting closer everyday. I wrote this in the hope that it might allow me to start thinking clearer about it all as I have been struggling to think straight and study. But unfortunately things like this tend to strike when you're not prepared.

Louise Pearson, my grandmother, my biggest fan is gone, but she has left behind wonderful memories and I am going to try my best to carry on her traditions and keep her legacy alive. She deserves that much.