Today was Gran's funeral.
Needless to say, I wasn't at my freshest, but I don't really care. I now know that there's not much point in putting on any make-up when going to a funeral.
A couple of summers ago, when we were at our summer cottage, Gran started telling me and my second oldest cousin of her life. That was the first time I ever heard her telling of her past, and I don't think I had ever heard so much of any of family members. I guess she knew that she wouldn't be with us for much longer. Mom was smart and wrote down as much of that as she could, and I appreciate both Gran telling me all that and Mom writing it down. My Gran was my favourite relative, after my Mom, and what she told only made me appreciate her more.
She was the oldest child in her family. Three of her siblings died when they were between the ages 2-6, all at the same time. The details are unclear to me, but they had eaten something that ended up killing them. My Gran was 9 at that time. She was left with two sisters and a brother. The sisters are still alive, both of which I only heard 1-2 years ago for the first time. Gran or her family couldn't afford education, but she was a survivor. She had her first child, my Aunt, at the age of 21, to a man who she loved but who did not want to have anything to do with a child. My Aunt was the sole reminder of him to Gran. Being a single mother in 1950s was not an easy thing to do, but soon enough, Gran found the man who was to be my grandfather. With him, she had a son, my Uncle, and a daughter, my Mom. My grandfather, however, was an abusive, selfish drunkard, who made my poor Gran and her children full of terror (spunky though she was). She had two jobs in order to support her family. It only started getting easier for them when the children started growing up, and the day my Mom became of age, my Gran divorced her husband. Eventually she moved to Tampere where she lived for the rest of her life, and when she became too tired and worn for work, she dedicated herself to taking care of her grandchildren. I remember how Gran was always there when we came back from daycare or elementary school, making sure we ate well dressed warmly.
I am ashamed to say that a couple of times, when I was small, I argued with her and said bad things to her. Back then, I did not understand how great a person she was. But I did love her, and I want to believe she knew that too. I've always felt closer to my Mom's side of the family, and especially to Mom and Gran. There is no one in the world quite like my Gran, and there will never be. There will be similar people, on surface, but they won't hold the same importance as she did to me. I just hope she knew that.
Completely unrelated to the previous text, I doodled stuff:( Whilst watching Girl With a Pearl EarringCollapse )