Me, Sophie, Ben and Geri are off to see Lee Evans in Oxford tonight.  We’re leaving in about ten minutes and I am very very excited!!  I am glad that this year has seen live comedy returned to my life.  Just thought you might like to know that ;o)

My brother and his girlfriend move in together yesterday.  And today they had a housewarming BBQ.

The house they’ve moved into is an actual house - with an upstairs and a downstairs.  We’d thought the upstairs would be “out of bounds to me” - I used to climb stairs on a regular basis as up until I went to uni I had an upstairs bedroom.  And even then until 2002 I would be climbing stairs to get to my bedroom during the uni holidays.

Then in November 2002 my parents moved into their current house - which is a chalet bungalow.  And I got a downstairs room.  I first saw the house that Christmas and I went upstairs twice to see it.  I’ve not been up their again (and my sister actually thought I’d not seen the upstairs at all).  Other than one incident not long after I left uni (four years ago) involving a broken lift and me getting myself down some stairs, stairs have been something other people did since 2002.  I’ve done the odd step (there are two into my parents house).  But stairs?  I don’t do stairs.

Or I didn’t until today.

I wanted to see the upstairs of my brothers house.  I’ll admit I wasn’t sure I still had the ability to climb them it being so long since I did.  Mum didn’t think I could and didn’t want me to try.  Telling me that is kinda like a red flag to a bull and before I got there I had wondered if it might be possible.  So that was it.

But I was in the kitchen with my brother and we just went and starting going up the stairs.  On one side there is a bannister, on the other a bannister part of the way and then a wall.   I had wondered about going up on my bum - but I walked!  I held on with one hand and held on/lent on the wall with my other.  Ben walked behind me.

I practically flew up those stairs.

Just me and the walls/banister no help.

I couldn’t believe how quickly I got up them or how easy I found it.

Had a brief look round the upstairs and then sat on their bed for a while catching my breath while they greeted more guests and showed them round.  Then Dad came up and helped me into the bathroom which I also managed without help (and we hadn’t been sure I would even with help).  Yay for small bathrooms which mean the loo is right by the wall and the bath is right the other side and on the side i need help on the most.

Dad helped me walk back to the top of the stairs and after going down the top two, I sat on the top stair and worked my way down on my bum.  My favourite floaty blue skirt might not have been the best choice for stuff to wear for that.

I was breathless after my adventure but very pleased.

Welcome back, stairs.  I can’t say I’ve missed you over the last six years.  And I don’t think we’ll be having the relationship we had before.  Because I have no regular need of you now.  Just a now and again when I visit my brother and need the loo will have to be sufficient for you.  But it is nice to know that I’ve still got it.

Oh and the house is very nice and the BBQ was fun.

Yesterday after a long day out with friends we drove through Thatcham on our way home. Thatcham is where my Nanny lived until 2001 (I think it was at least). And I’ve only briefly been back once since then, to take her to meet her sister and go on holiday from there. I’ve not been back since she died.

Driving through there was really weird. There was the garden centre we always passed as we were on our way; it was when we knew we would soon see the “Welcome to Thatcham” sign. I think we visited once or twice.

And next there was the Catholic Hall where her 70th birthday party was held. There were so many people at that party and the walls were decorated with banners which said “70 Years Young”. I was 11 or I might have been 12. She didn’t have candles on her birthday cake, instead everyone was given a household candle (red, I think) and stood in a circle. Mum or someone, maybe my aunt, went round and lit them and Nanny followed a few people behind blowing them out. I was sat on a regular chair in that circle and holding an unlit candle. Mum wouldn’t let me have a lit one but we pretended and she “blew it out” just the same. They played songs that she liked and songs that we liked. They also played No Limits by 2Unlimited and she did the dance to it; the one that had won her the title of “groovy granny” or some such on a holiday to a Haven Park a while before. We loved that our Nan was so game and would do such things.

And then over on the right, just behind that garage, she lived there. Next was the small row of shops - we’d go there for sweets when we visited. And on the left, She lived there too. There was the nearby library we would visit when I went to stay - she would let me chose a book to get out - I was 14 or 15 the last time I think.

That road, just over there? That was the one we would walk down on our way into town proper.

Oh, there’s the chip shop. Nanny worked in there for a long time and I remember more than once being sat in the car outside with my Dad. It was always nearly closing time and we were waiting for her to finish work. Then we would drive back here with us and she would stay for a few days. I went along more than once “for the ride” as she would say. She’d come out with hugs and kisses and a portion of chips for me. I’d eagerly unwrap them and eat a few. Then she’d take them and wrap them back up again - properly just like they did in the chip shop. I can’t remember how old I was then, it was during my primary school years and I’d imagine I was about 7 at more. But I thought it was absolutely amazing that MY Nan knew how to wrap the chips up just like in the chippy. Wow.

I vaguely remember the woman she worked with too. But what I really remember about her is an event some years after Nanny stopped working there. We went to visit and as we were sitting there in her little bungalow she mentioned that she was going to a funeral the next day. So mum asked who it was - the woman she had worked with.

“Oh yeah, what happened to her then?” asks mum.

Honest to God, Nanny just absolutely deadpan as if this was the most appropriate answer turned to mum and just went “She died.”

Oh how we laughed - and how she laughed too.

***

It took probably less than 10 minutes to drive through Thatcham last night and it wasn’t easy. But it was nice in a way to do so. I was just sat there going “this is so weird.” and then I explained to Alison why that was. I told her the first chip shop story and how it didn’t seem like anything had changed.

Tomorrow my parents are attending a funeral - in the same church and with the same cemetery as Nanny’s funeral. And the burial is to be as close to Nanny’s grave as possible. I would imagine that won’t be easy.

I am glad I got to visit “her world” (even though she lived here for the last several years of her life - I will always think of her when I visit Thatcham and Newbury) yesterday however briefly.

I love you Nanny. And I Miss You too.

I am, are you?

Managed to get out wheeling for the first time in just more than ten days (?) earlier. And I wheeled myself 1.09 miles or 1.75 KM - more than one third of the course! Thanks so much to everyone who responded to my earlier “please sponsor me” e-mails and facebook messages. I now have more than double the amount of sponsorship I had first things this morning and it was the thought of not wanting to let you all down that got me out there training this evening. When I mapped the route out after getting home I was like “if I’m wrong and that’s less than a mile I’m going back out and walking until I have done at least that far”

Add in the fact that a friend got a free gift in boots and gave me the majority of it and a fabulous new haircut and you can definitely say that I’m having a great day. And that I have fabulous friends and family ♥ love you guys.

Unfortunately, I haven’t done anything amazing today (or any recent day). Unless actually feeling well enough to leave the house for a couple of hours and do some stuff (badly) earlier counts.

But my sister did do something amazing today.

Congrats honey I’m proud of you! love love xx

And I hope that at some time in the future I will be eligible to do something amazing too.

I went shopping in Reading today.  And I only came back with the things I went to get.  I came home, called both of my siblings separately, lay on my bed, read for a while.  Messed around online, made dinner.  Developed a headache.  Drank a load of diet coke.  Started a knitting project, watched Doctor Who whilst eating my dinner.   And then I popped out for some fresh air.  A normal day.  Nothing significant, nothing major.

I stopped at the garage to get some chocolate and was idly wandering debating if I’d rather have biscuits (answer: yes if they’d had the ones I wanted).  Then I saw the box of chocolate snowballs.

and *bang* it hit me like a wave.

Thoughts of Stevie.

Memory is both a wonderous and strange thing all at once.  Something i’m thankful I have but which at times hurts just the same.  I know someone with short term memory loss and there is no doubting that it’s nasty and causing problems.  And I know I’m lucky to have my memories, I cherish them.

But the memories came and… Grief, once again.

Today I can sit here (and I did, wandering home) and think “this time last year he was here.”  tomorrow I can/could do the same.  But Monday… Monday marks one year.

Tomorrow is my sister’s birthday, Monday is my Mum’s birthday as well as being Stevie’s anniversary.  I hope we can find some joy amongst our tears and sadness.

In the meantime I sit here remembering my dear, dear friend and marveling about the affect seeing one little packet of a snack food I don’t even like (and which I’m not sure he did) can make me think and remember and feel.

Over the last several days I have been thinking about family.

I’ve had several things happen around me, that I’ve been told about or I’ve read about or whatever which reminded me that not everyone has the sort of family that I do.  A lot of the stories have made me gasp in horror and wonder, how can anyone live like that?  Family’s family.  It’s not something that’s easy for me to understand, often shocking me.  But for others it is a fact of life.

So, yeah.  As much as at times I might fight with my family, they might really annoy me or frustrate me and make me wish they would GO AWAY and LEAVE ME ALONE - I have a great relationship overall with my family.  And for that I am very blessed.

There are things I would change - but compared to some people they are little things, the incidentals that don’t really matter.  And I know (and they know) that, when the chips are down, they are there for me as I am for them.  No questions asked.

Even if it meant doing something tough.

It’s not really a big deal - it’s just something that’s been driven home to me a few times these last couple of days and I wanted to record that here.

I have a family that loves me, likes me, supports me, helps me. lets me try, lets me fail, cheers my successes and is there for me but lets me fly and have space.

I am incredibly lucky.

If you ever help me on one of the very rare occasions when I walk it really, really is a bad idea to make me laugh.  Of course, given that I laugh loads at really random things that most people probably wouldn’t find that funny that might be rather difficult.

This is a lesson my siblings learnt the hard way this afternoon - Soph made an off the cuff random comment while I was walking with one of them on each side.  I really really laughed and so nearly crumbled to the floor.  I might be able to multitask but walking and laughing at the same time truly is beyond me.  How they kept me on my feet I don’t know.  I just know that I had nothing to do with it!

I bumped into Phil on my way home from town a little while ago.  He was driving and pulled over to talk to me.  We did the how are you, how was your holiday general chat thing.  He asked if I needed something to which I went “that’s a very open question…” and he said he’d take that as a no.  And as he was leaving I said “love to Pat”.

But how strange and how hard it was not to say “how’s Stevie? Did he enjoy the trip? love to him”.

I’d been thinking about how it’s nearly a year as I was wandering back from Sainsburys but seeing Phil and thinking that… it almost hit me again, it brought it’s realness home.

How I wish things weren’t like this.

And, changing the subject slightly, I must comment on the fact that I never know what to think/say/feel when people refer to my friends with disabilities who have died as being “all better now.”  I’m not sure I like it or agree with it.

But I have knitting to finish and a new episode of Torchwood to watch so I shall leave that topic to another day.