"We love to boogie on a Saturday night."

"I Love To Boogie" - T.-Rex

I rang my grandma (My father's mother) today, as I do every Sunday. Whilst we were putting the world to rights with our hour-long conversations, I thanked her for sending me an easter card, with a handwritten letter, and a £10 note with instructions (which I did not follow, and I told her this) to buy myself some Easter Chocolate. I told her how much I appreciated the thought, and love receiving post, and I could almost hear her smile as she told me that she loved receiving things with thought. "It's simple things that brighten up your day when you're on your own," she begun.

She carried on to tell me about when she wakes up in the morning, and how she listens to a Radio Station called Merseyside, and at least one or two times during the week, they play the song I've posted above - "I love to boogie" by T-Rex. She said that when my Grandad was alive, he would listen to the radio with her and whenever this song started, he would leap out of his chair and start to shuffle his feet around the living room happily. "You silly old sod," she'd chuckle while watching him. She says she says the same things to her great grandchildren, (my cousin's kids) who are between the ages of 6 months and 7.

I pretty much consider my grandparents to be the foundation for my entire family. Well, they used to be, not so much anymore, which makes me sad. When I was a lot younger, our family would all congregate at my father's parents' house every Saturday afternoon, usually between 2pm-6pm. We'd sit together, my Grandma would lay out a buffet and we'd all pick at the food, watch a movie and have a chat and a laugh. I used to moan about going every weekend, because I wouldn't get to see my friends, but now I miss those days incredibly so. I'm so grateful my parents took me every week, because I wouldn't have the relationship I have (or had) with my grandparents. 

My paternal grandfather died in 2008. I still cry whenever I think about this. We were incredibly close, and always had been, and I will never forgive myself for the fact I wasn't there when he passed. I moved halfway down the country in 2007, when I was nearly half a year into my (first ever) relationship, with O. I'd travel back to see my family maybe once a year, but always spoke to them on the phone three or four times a week. My grandfather fell down the stairs and broke his coccyx. Because of his age, he was taken into hospital, where he contracted C.Diff (a strain of MRSA), and although he was in good spirits, one afternoon he simply went to sleep and never woke up again. I'd spoken to him not long before he had died, and he had told me not to bother making the journey to see him, because I'd see him at Christmas. 

I found out my grandfather had died via the internet. No phone call, no text, no skype... and it wasn't via my parents. I read a message that sounded ominous on my sisters' facebook page and rang my mum and dad, and there was no answer. Rang my sister, and her phone was off. When I rang both of my grandmothers and got no answer at either, I tried my uncle. His partner picked up and it was only then that I knew something was seriously wrong. My uncles partner told me that it was something I need to speak to my mum about, but I begged him to tell me. He must've heard the worry in my voice because the next words I heard were "Your grandad died today."

I still miss my grandfather as if he died yesterday, the hurt is still there, and I still feel so raw. I worry for my paternal grandmother, although she is as strong as an ox and as sharp as a tack, but I know she is alone. I also feel closer to her than ever since then, and I like to think we have a bond. She has been there for me in ways I never even dreamt she could, and I will always remain eternally grateful for both her and my grandfathers presence in my lives. I know he is watching over us, and he is with my aunt (his daughter). 

My grandmother sounded so happy on the phone today, when she recalled that memory of my grandfather. "I can see him in my minds eye," she said, and this is the first time I've heard her speak about him in such a way that isn't simply so frank... "I have my sad moments when I see it, but then I laugh and smile, and I'm in a good mood for the rest of the day." 

And she's right. I have my sad moments when I remember that he isn't with us physically anymore, but then I think back to all of those Saturday afternoons when we would sit and sing along to his favourite Disney movie, The Jungle Book, or when we would play with my Uncle's Dog, Max. Or how I'd sit and wear his flat cap and think he was really cool because he owned it and used to wear it with his shirt and tie - every day was a black pants, shirt and tie day for him. He was a true gentlemen, and the world was certainly a better place with him in it.

So here's to you, grandad. I love you.