Cross stitch meltdown

So, my Mum and Aunt J have been pretty hard hit by Grans death in February. They had nursed her, 24 hours a day, in Aunt Js home for 3 years, and it nearly destroyed them. 2 years in a dementia home helped ease the burden, but twice daily visiting meant no breaks, no rest...she was the centre of their life for over 5 years.

She died in February, we don't know why. Death certificate said 'Dementia', but dementia's not a reason for death, but a diagnosis of a condition of the living. She had been in pain, but morphine eased it enough for her to go painlessly. We didn't want a post mortem: what more could it tell us than that a 91 year old stopped breathing finally?

Since Gran died, their lives have been vacant: no need to go up to the Home and feed her her lunch, then ice cream and sweeties after to keep her weight up. No looking for nice things to brighten up her room, cardigans that would button up to the neck to keep her warm and warm blankets for her knees, no washing to take home and do, no bulk buying Werthers Originals, Jelly Babies, Aero Bubbles, no curling her hair and doing her nails, no singing Rawhide while pushing her in her wheelchair. THey're lost, and don't know what to do with themselves.

So, as is normal in my family, we don't take things seriously. We go visit her grave, that she shares with Grandad. We take him a fag (a heavy smoker, he died of lung cancer 25+ years ago), and leave it on the gravestone, and bring her flowers...and sweeties. The gravestone has been host to toffees, Werthers, Jelly Babies...all her favourites. It's daft, but we like it, and they would have too.

And as is also normal for us, I've been making a silly wee thing to make them laugh, but has a meaning. Y'see, the two of them are turning into my Gran. No trip was ever complete without sweeties, and now when we get in the car Aunt J starts rummaging in her bag within moments, then whips out the mints, toffees, or Werthers. Mum's acting more like her by the day too...

So, I've spent a ridiculous amount of time on making this cross stitch, working on it on train journeys and evenings. It's driven me mad, I've made so many mistakes, I've ignored it in irritation for weeks at a time, but kept going. Cos it's for them. And for my Gran. It may just look like a bit of crappy cross stitch, but it's love.