Sorry if foul language offends you. I just feel like if any one deserves crass language it’s cancer. I don’t have enough writing skills to portray my hatred toward the disease.
The disease that plucks people from our lives who deserve so much more time.
Cancer stole my Nana.
We didn’t get to say at her funeral “she had a long good life!”
We just all sat in silence. Frozen. Unsure how to move. I was 7 years old.
The glue that held us all together.
The person who made everyone feel like they were the most important person in the world.
I swear if you ask all 10 of her grandchildren, we will all say that we secretly think we were her favorite.
She taught me how to love people for who they are.
How to make people around you feel very comfortable being themselves.
She brought me to meet my brand new twin baby brother and sister with my dress on backward.
Completely zipped up in the front.
The encounter is being video tapped. I’ve watched it many times.
My Mother says, “Mum! Britt’s dress is on backwards.”
Funny because she wasn’t my Mother’s Mom. She was my Dad’s. But if you married her son, you were her child as well. She welcomed people into our family with open arms. I always remember my Mom calling her “Mum.”
Nana says, “She wanted to dress herself. I figure she will be a trendsetter.”
She was funny, but kind.
When my parents were getting divorced, I was 18. Sometimes I would just lay in my bed and think about how long ago I would have gone and lived with her if she was alive.
When my cousins come down to camp in my yard every Summer. Cause that’s how we roll. There is always comments about how my house reminds them of our grandparents property is a way.
I don’t think I did that on purpose. Yet knowing enough psychological crap and watching endless hours of TED talks would lead me to believe that somewhere int he back of my mind, their home was my happy place.
Therefore when I got married and started a family. Why wouldn’t I build it to be what I consider my happy place?
This is my new happy place.
LONG story short, if I can help any kid have their Nana for more time.
Then i’ll walk!
I’ll badger you on social media for donations!
I’ll use my children’s cuteness as a weapon and sell lemonade!
I will get my friends drunk and raffle off prizes….
For the children!
DONATE $39 dollars. 1 dollar for every mile I drag my ass around Boston.
I am most definitely going to be jumping on the back of duck boats for a quick life up the road.
Alright, I have to go. My COACH IS STRICT.
But I needed the best, so I got Superman.