Thursday, February 10, 2011

1909-2011

A couple of years back I wrote this post about going over to Wales to visit my great aunt who had turned 100 on New Year's Day. She died today, aged 102. On the scale of tragic-things-that-can-happen-in-life a very old lady passing peacefully away does not rank too highly, but I found myself more upset than I imagined I would be when today inevitably came. I'd wanted to marry her when I was little. I understood marriage as being something you did with a lady who always beamed when they saw you and treated you with love and kindness. Throw in 'age-appropriate' and 'not a blood relative' and it's still pretty much a philosophy I subscribe to.

I don't really get this world, more often than not, but 102 years of bringing warmth and smiles into other people's lives seems as good a way to have dealt with it as I've encountered.

5 comment(s):

Christine Donovan said...

Your labels for this post 'family, happy, sad', well, they sum it up, don't they. What anyone says about society it's your family that binds you together, when my grandad died I felt such a huge loss of all that past going.
She sounded wonderful. Go and create your own next generation of your family for people a hundred years hence to mourn like you are doing.

Janelle said...

yeah man. beautiful. death's always a fucker...whether you;re three or 103...pole sana jamani. x

Andrew said...

Thanks, Christine. By the way, I had meant to leave a comment before on your post about your cousin and that ridiculous fuss over her spray tan. I've been thinking of writing something about that documentary, would you mind if I linked to your post?

Asante sana, Janelle.

Christine Donovan said...

Thanks Andrew for the interest in my family. I'm seeing them tomorrow, probably for the last time for the forseeable future as they'll be getting their eviction notices in March. Families - they bring you as much heartbreak as joy, don't they, it's intensely painful to think my 70 yr old aunt is going to be evicted, brutally. Link away, please.

Jo said...

Aw. I can't imagine, 102. Long enough to live. How nice you had her for that long.