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Writer's pictureMaddy Pappas

What people don't understand

Updated: Mar 7, 2018

Two months ago today I lost the most important person to me in the whole entire world. Before losing my Grandma, I had only really experienced the loss of a beloved family pet. I remember when we lost our dog Eddie, everyone was so sad, a little piece of our family was now no longer there. I was 17 and it hurt like hell at the time. I’m now 20 and there are no words to describe the loss of my Grandma.


At the five week mark a lot of people gave up on me. But the thing is grief doesn’t have an off switch. There is never a set time when you stop hurting and life goes on. I would receive messages like 'hope you are getting better' and 'wish you would be better soon', when in reality there will be no better. I will always hurt. It has now been eight weeks and I feel the very same way when I walked into the hospital on that morning, empty. When you live with someone they become your whole world and when they are taken away there is nothing but emptiness and a feeling that no one understands you.


In writing this, I hope to shine a light onto grief so that people who may never have experienced significant loss can understand the complexities of this emotion.



Before Grandma passed I absolutely loved Saturdays. Mum and Dad would go down the shops, Blake would be at cricket and it would be me and Nan in the house for hours together. Most of the time I was meant to be studying but I would put the books down and share some tea and biscuits with Nan and make fun of stories we read in the paper. The radio would be playing and I would always be encouraging Nan to sing along so that I could laugh.


After Grandma passed Saturday has become my least favourite day. Each morning I wake up and I try to force myself to sleep through the day, because if I stay awake I start to remember the Saturday when I was awoken by the call to tell me you didn’t have long left. I start to remember the numbness and the feelings of dread. I start to remember conversations with unethical nurses who laughed in the face of my grief when I wanted to ask them questions. I start to remember your face on that day and I fall apart. Everything goes on around me and Saturdays roll on but I have to change my routine and do them without my best friend.


These feelings of despair are not just unique to Saturdays. Through the week I look at the time and wonder what Nan would have been doing now. Come 4:30 I sit and wait to hear the theme song to Bold and the Beautiful and each day that it doesn’t come on is another kick to the stomach. I wait to hear you call out that you need me to download another iBook and I even miss the fighting we used to do when 10 books later one still hadn’t been settled on. Around 11pm when we would have our best conversations I go to your bedroom cupboard where all the clothes still lay in place and talk to your cardigans, picturing you in them, just so I can feel close to you.



It doesn’t get any better outside the house. At work I see Grandmas and their granddaughters and wonder why mine had to be taken from me. I tear up when I have to scan Liquorice Bullets because you always had your hand in your lolly bag sucking on a bullet. At uni I see your face when I came running out to you with the email that said I had gotten in and I remember the hug you gave me, one that was filled with pride. And then the worst part, coming home. When I’m away from the house it is easy to pretend like it is all a bad dream and that when I walk through the front door you’ll be sitting there reading on your iPad. I’ll shout out, Avon, is anybody home, and you’ll laugh, telling me to get a new line. But when I get home this doesn’t happen and it is like a fresh wave of grief reminding me that you’re gone.


As a family, the five of us together said that when the day had to come we would have no regrets and no anger because we had a good 14 years living all together. But boy am I angry and regretful. We had to fight every single step of the way with the hospital, because once you get to a certain age these nurses and doctors don’t want to help you anymore. I’m angry with extended family members who have been of no support. Most of all, I am regretful. On the Friday night before Nan passed we were talking, just our general banter and Grandma went quiet. I don’t know what came over me but I took the opportunity to snuggle into her neck and say you know if you had to go, I would be ok, I would miss you like anything, but I would be ok because you and me, we’ll be together always. I just want to hit myself for saying that and every night before sleep finally takes over this exchange replays over and over and I get so angry that I had to say that. I thought I was helping Grandma, she was suffering and I didn’t want that, but I told her a lie. How was I ever going to be ok? I’m not ok, and I spend every single day wishing I could take those words back, because I still need her.


I think a lot of people don’t understand the depth of grief because Grandmas are older than us and it seems natural that they will pass. But my Grandma was more than that. She was my best friend, my decision maker, my source of comfort and laughter. She taught me so many things and without that wisdom I would not be half of the person I am. We had our own special thing and we just fit together so perfectly. We had 20 years of fun, laughter, memories and friendship, but we deserved so much more. For the rest of my life I will feel robbed because I am the baby and everyone else got so much more time with you. I now have to go into this year, finish uni and turn 21 and not have my biggest supporter with me. It was always going to be a stretch but I wanted you to see me get married. I wanted you to open the paper one day and read a story and there my name was. I wanted you with me forever, and I can only hope that in time I can begin to realise that what we had just doesn’t go away, that you will be with me in some way forever.



That’s what grief is, it’s a big mix of all the emotions no one wants to feel, all wrapped up in one. It has made me cry everyday for the last 2 months and it certainly doesn’t go off just by flicking a switch.


At my Grandma’s funeral I delivered one half of her eulogy, choosing to remember happy times and I hope, if you want to read it, the words further show the gravity of my loss.


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How do I put into words what a Grandma means to her grandchildren? What will I write that will do my Grandma justice?


Grandma loved the simple things in life so as best as I can I will try and keep this simple.

First came Katharine and Grandma was over the moon, the first grandchild, there will never be another feeling like it. Then came Amy, another girl to love and cherish. Then, five boys in a row to cuddle and love just the same. But there was something about Luke and Blake, Grandma shared a special love with her two boys. And then the baby, me. How I loved to be called Grandma’s baby, it always made me feel that I was special.



Grandma never treated us any differently though, she loved and cared for us all. Grandma’s days were spent minding us kids, playing games, watching tele and for me, taking the pips out of my mandarins. We would sit on the lounge and hold each piece of the mandarin up to light, I’d point at the pips and Grandma would take them out laughing to herself. It was the little things that set Grandma above and beyond.


And then 13 years ago our family had to move to Melbourne, it felt only natural that Grandma would come with us, after all we had spent almost everyday together in my childhood. Looking back now to those lonely times in Melbourne away from all our family, we wouldn’t have survived without Grandma. Blake and I poured all our love into her, our special Grandma and she loved us right back.


Grandma was truly one of a kind. She was such a character. It wouldn’t be a normal day if we didn’t hear Grandma’s voice coming from the front room singing along to her radio. How Grandma loved her music. Whenever my friends would visit the house they would always come up to Grandma and say hello and see what joke she would say next, marvelling at the 88 year old who could use an Ipad.. And that was Grandma, so smart and so full of jokes.



As the years went on and I became older I began to realise what a special thing I had with Grandma. With just one word she could tell if I was upset and she would say, come here my baby and wrap me up in a big hug. Those little arms that could wrap around my waist and the way Nan’s head rested in my neck made me feel so comforted and so safe. I knew as long as we were together it would be alright.


Now, I have gone without a cuddle in six days and I don’t feel ok at all. I miss my best friend, I miss my Grandma. Nothing will ever be the same without you with us. I wander around the house and there you are, sitting on the end of my bed telling me to give up studying and come and have a cup of tea together. There you are in the kitchen sneaking into the cupboard to fill up your lolly bag. There you are in the recliner chair with that look of concentration on your face as you watched the lives of the Forresters unfold on B&B. There you are at the Christmas village critiquing my placement and helping me hang the lights around the buildings because you knew it annoyed me so.


How am I going to do this without you Grandma?



One of the remarkable things about Grandma was that she never carried on about anything. She was the strongest person I knew and will ever know. Too many times to count we have been taken aside by Doctors and told to say our goodbyes and each time you came out the other side stronger than ever. I never heard you say you were in pain and I never heard you complain about anything or anyone. That is the strength of your character, Nan.


You loved our Poppy Jack so much and you lasted so long without him and I truly believe that it was because loved kept you going. Love for your daughters, your son in-laws, your grandchildren and great children. You would do anything is any one of us asked you. Like when Finn asked you to hold his burrowing cockroach and you picked him up in your hands and started to pose for photos. Or when I would be too lazy to walk around the shopping centre and you would push me around on your walker. Everyone was staring at us, the odd pair, but we didn’t care, because that’s what we were, a pair.


In my last few days with you, you took me aside, looked me straight in the eyes, gave a little squeeze of my hand and said, you’re my special person Mad. And for me it was like our whole 20 years flashed before my eyes and suddenly our life together made so much sense. We went hand in hand with each other, bouncing jokes off one another, coming up with stories and sharing secret stolen moments together. My best friend, my special person.



I know that Grandma wouldn’t want me to be sad, she would want me to pick my head up and put one foot in front of the other. Whenever I was sick Grandma always used to greet me of a morning with ‘how do you feel, darling’ and some days I would say just the same and then Grandma would stop what she was doing, look up at me, raise her crooked little fingers in the air and say ‘not even a littlie bit better’. So from today, even though I miss you so terribly that sometimes it feels like I cant breathe, each day I will continue to get a littlie bit better and start to smile when I pass a Woolworths and remember all the times you used to shout at the top of your voice down the aisle “don’t you use those baby nappies Mad, do you need some?”. I will smile when I hear Sylvia’s mother playing on the radio, it was such a silly song but every time it came on the radio I would hear Nan call out, Mad our song is on and as I made my way up to Nan all I would hear is her singing and the operator says 40 cents more, for the next three minutes. I will smile the next time I hear the wolf howling at the end of Law and Order. It always made me laugh, my little Nana with the smile that could light up the world and the softest voice watching Law and Order marathons every Saturday night.


You were one of a kind Nana, never to be replaced. Its been six days and I miss every little thing about you. This is going to be a long road without you. For 13 years you were the first thing I saw in the morning and the last person I would give a kiss to at night. I miss your kisses and cuddles and your voice calling my name. How will I ever be the same without my special person, my partner. It’s tough now but I hope that with you on my shoulder, my guardian angel, each day it will get a little easier to breathe and simply be again, even though I will miss you terribly. We deserved forever, we only had 20 years but the memories will last for all of time, that’s just how we were.


Every Friday and Saturday night when I used to lock the front door Grandma would say, don’t lock it Mad we’re going out dancing tonight. As today is Friday, I won’t say goodbye Grandma, I will say see you on the dance floor, my other half.


Together always, always together.



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