It would have been my Nana's birthday today. I don't even know how old she'd have been. I'm not sure if anyone but my Pop knew her actual age. My Nana died not long after my sister, Erin, was born. She was my whole world. I loved her more than anything in this world and I knew I was her favourite. She told me as such so many times.
Unconsciously, to make the day go faster, I cleaned up my room, really cleaned it. I went through tons of drawers and cubby holes, threw out loads of paperwork and junk that I no longer need. Just to keep myself busy. No one seems to know how much I miss her. No one really cares. I mentioned to my dad a couple of years ago that it was her birthday and he just said, "So?". She was his mother. I haven't mentioned it since.
I still think about her often. A lot of my actions are... curbed because I like to think that she is watching over me. There are so many things I wish I could say to her, so many thing I wish I could do for her, but I can't. I want to apologise to her for being angry at her when she died, I want to sing for her like she asked me too, instead of refusing her wish, I want to hug her again, I want to feel safe, but I know I can't and sometimes, that really hurts.
I found a biography this morning while I was cleaning my room. I'd written it in year 7, for Social Studies. For the past few years, I've been more than upset with myself because I couldn't remember exactly when my Nana had died. Was it in 1995, which was when I was in Grade five? I was sure that I was at Elizabeth St when It happened. Or was it 1994? The year Erin was born because I distinctly remember that Nana never got to see Erin again, after she was born. The biography had, in big numbers, her date of death listed as 3/11/1995. Now I know.
She's been gone 11 years this year and I'm the only one that cares. I realised something else not long ago. I have no emotions. Sometimes I feel like a robot. I look inside myself and there is nothing there. I don't feel anger, in fact, the only time I can actually remember getting really angry was when I was watching Farenheight 9/11. I don't feel joy; I can't list one moment when I've felt especially happy. I know I love people, but the feeling is just not there when I look.
Greg says I'm detached and I think he's right. I think I know when it started too, the detached feeling. I pinned it to when Nana died. I was 11, so when she died, she took some part of me with her, something I'll never get back. I think another part is because I was so angry with her when she died. She'd made promises to me and she hadn't kept them. I hated her for that. Pretty quickly I learnt how futile that was. Now, I just miss her. I'll see her again, I know she's waiting for me. I just wish I wasn't the only one in my world who cared.
Happy Birthday, Nana.
1 comment:
Happy Birthday, Amber's Nana.
May the gods grant you the time to give Amber back that piece of herself she feels that she is missing.
I know she's there, sheltered, secure in her own heart and waiting to burst out in a flurry of emotions. I know, too, how much that scares her. She doesn't want to share her emotions with anyone because eventually, she will have to admit that you are gone, Nana, and that scares her more than anything in the world.
But I'm here for her. So is her mother, and her sister. All she needs, is your assurance that everything is fine, that she is still a beautiful girl and your favourite person in the world.
Please, give her that assurance, and that security she needs. By the blessing of the Mother, give Amber everything she needs to be herself again.
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