Laugh

March 28th 2016

Today I rushed home to visit my Nan. She’s really not well. She’s been ill for about four months but every time I’ve visited her she’s seemed fine. She always said that for someone so ill she seems remarkably healthy. 

She still laughed and joked, and smiled. Through treatment she’s gradually lost her hair, her skin sagged, she’s lost mobility. But she was still Nan. She still had the sense and coherency to have intelligent conversation. 

This weekend she got worse, and today when I saw her she could barely speak. It was horrible, but I’m so glad I saw her. And I made her laugh, and I almost cried when I made her laugh. 

Nan has always spilt her food down her blouse when she eats. We’ve always made a joke about it. Every dinner we had she’d drop some food down her, and everyone would say “typical Nan”. It’s been a thing for years. 

Today, Dad tried to give her a bit of water, and she dribbled it down herself. And I said “it wouldn’t be Nan unless she spilt something down herself” and she laughed. And it was her laugh, the same laugh she’d always had, just quieter. And dad laughed. And I laughed. And I could’ve cried. 

Until tomorrow, I could’ve cried. 

Jacn

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