|Image from Instagram|
I've been stuck in a sort of time warp. After the last few years of doing basically the same thing daily, it was a challenge to get out of that routine.
Watching Netflix, reading and playing online games helped to kill time. Not even the unusually busy moments of travelling, to and fro, to see my children and grand-daughter could truly shake me out of the rut that I seemed to be in.
For a while now, I've realised that I didn't have much to talk about because a big part of my world used to revolve around my MIL. Her illness, medications, welfare and well-being were all things that were paramount in my life. So much so that when she died, I didn't know what else to talk about. She was the main topic of most conversations. She was what I knew about best.
It took me a while to make my MIL the focal point of my life. Somehow that made it easier for me to see to her. I didn't realise that I no longer have to do that anymore. Maybe it was my own personal way to grief.
I seem to have been a bystander in my own life. The arrival of a beautiful grand-daughter can now take centre stage. She has changed the family dynamics but somehow she was sharing it with a great-grandmother that she will never ever know.
I should let the past move into a corner where memories are stored.
I should make new ones.
I should move on.
I should become the irritating grandmother with ooohs and aaahs about everything my grand-daughter does.
I should save what I can remember of Cayla's great-grandmother Myra. When Cayla is old enough, we can tell her bedtime stories about the fond memories shared.
Yes, that's what I can do. Let go of the old. Hold on to the new. And yet bind them together.