Today my eyes snapped open at 7am with a foggy thought persisting from my dreams into my waking stream of consciousness. Blinking sleepily, it took me a few moments to realise that it was because at this same time in the morning ten years before, my wonderful Grandma passed away.
My Grandma was a very loving woman and was especially fond of me. She moved in when my brother and I were born and never left, giving us 17 years of additional support and care. We were very lucky children indeed, Jonathan, Lauren and I.
Our family often talks about the bond between us and how, very plainly, she adored me- she adored us all, of course, but I was her 'baby in a bonnet'. And the feeling was mutual. It's unlikely that there's a day that goes by where I don't think about her and I often muse over what we would talk about now and what we would have in common as adults, as friends. From time to time, people ask that inane question 'If you could meet anyone in the world, dead or alive, who would it be?' and without fail, my answer would always be Grandma. I really couldn't give a shit about meeting anyone else when if I could just have one cup of tea with her again, it would make me the happiest person alive.