This day, 7 April, is one I have marked each year since my father’s death in 2004, as it is his birthday. I would usually take the day off work and try to do something special—either work on the novel I hope one day to finish that is linked to him, or just sit in a park enjoying nature and thinking of him, or maybe enjoying an art exhibition he might like, or watch a DVD of a film we saw together. Some small thing as a memorial, to focus my thoughts this day more than all the other days on my beloved father.
Sadly last year, I was off work for that reason and about to go out for the day when I got a terrible call that my beloved grandmother had had a stroke and was not expected to recover. It turned an already emotional day into an unbearable one as I waited for news, and eventually heard the unthinkable. There’s no need to eulogise the greatness of this special woman, as many of us have done so below. But from today on, I will spend every 7 April thinking of both Grandmommy and Daddy, both of whom I loved dearly—still love dearly.
I thankfully have a few brief clips of video footage somewhere that I captured of a reluctant subject in my grandmother in the 1990s and a bit later, but I came across a more accessible (in terms of where it was stored) and more recent clip this morning of her in her 90s. As a memorial today, I have spent part of the day tweaking and uploading this little clip of her talking in a very Libby-ish way—full of fun and delight—and telling me about the tennis she was obsessed with at the time, watching at this stage without her hearing aids until I fetched them for her later. It makes me smile, as she always did. The picture quality is lower here than on the original clip, but I thought others might also like to see her in this moment again. God bless Grandmommy. I’m sure He’s enjoying her company, in all its feisty delight.
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