When I was growing up, I only had my Grandmother for a short time. I remember her well, even though she passed away when I was five years old. I remember her holding me, I remember her laugh and I recall her sitting in the back porch of what is today my Mothers home.
She had two very good friends who lived at Tokerau Beach, Dave and Kyra Fox, and after her passing they would visit us and we grew up calling them Nana and Poppa. They were wonderful, always so pleasant to be around and very interested in how I was doing academically. As much as I thought of them as my Grandparents, I believe they thought of me as their Grandson.
They had a magical garden that I would love to visit. It was surrounded by a tall hedge, and contained within was an abundance of fruit trees, the sweetest tangelos that I had ever eaten and they would grow their own vegetables. Going into their house was like stepping into a time warp where the furniture hadn’t changed or been upgraded and yet there was something comfortable and homely that I felt there, even though it wasn’t my home. When we would visit, Nana would sit us down at the kitchen table, and she would have prepared a bite to eat that was buttered bread, chopped white onion, sliced tomatoes, cheese and a can of corned beef. I can still smell it when I think of it.
Nana had Parkinsons disease and would start shaking. In early 2000 she took a tumble and hit her head and ended up in hospital. I can still recall hearing the voicemail that Poppa had left on Mums answering machine to let her know what had happened. I was attending Kaitaia College at the time, and I went and saw her. She was in a coma and the prognosis did not look good. Her eyes were closed, but not completely and I sat down next to her and cried.
I leaned in and just stroked her hand and looked at her, knowing that she wouldn’t be going back home, and that this was my time to say goodbye. I spoke to her and told her, “I love you like you are my real Nana. Thank you for loving me like your real Grandson”.
Nana and Poppa had been married sixty years, and had only ever been with each other. They were a beautiful couple, and it broke my heart to see him deteriorate so quickly in the following six months. I visited him one day, we just sat and watched the television and he told me how much he longed to see her again. I was a 17 year old teenager and had never been in love so I couldn’t understand his words and could only see them for the emotion that they invoked, and they made me sad.
Poppa was a healthy man at the time of Nana’s passing, big and strong. By June he had withered away to a frail man that I barely recognised, and passed away shortly after. It was then that I knew for sure that you can die of a broken heart, and I wholeheartedly believe that he did. At the end of his time I felt even though his mind was gone, there was a part of him that knew he would be reunited with his beloved Kyra once again.
Today sounds like…
Let’s slow it down a little bit, for I fear that we were getting a bit carried away there for a minute! I have the perfect song, and it’s by one of my favourite artists, the ever beautiful and amazing, Sade.
This song is called ‘Somebody Already Broke My Heart’ from the 2000 album, ‘Lovers Rock’ and is soothing, mellow, classic Sade. It talks about finding a new love after the last love didn’t work out so well. People who’ve had a broken heart or been through a tough relationship will understand that sometimes we look for someone new and without realising it, expect them to help put us back together. This song spoke to me in a time when I was lonely and for that reason, means a lot to me.
You can watch the video by clicking the image.
The Ilum 