Julie Helen: 'A lifetime of precious memories of my grandmother'

This week marks a year since my grandmother Lil died.

Since then, one of her sisters and one of her brothers have also died.

All in their nineties, there is no great tragedy in the deaths, but it changes the dynamics of the families involved, almost like a changing of the guard.

I can almost hear my Nan in my head giving out to me for still talking about her in the paper while being quietly chuffed with any mention she might get.

I think about her often. She would love to know that her great-grandson Ricky is learning to read and is thriving at it. She would be very proud of him looking smart in his school uniform and she would chuckle at his devilment and the fact that he’s a chatterbox just like me.

I remember her in such ordinary moments. I spread butter on a scone for Ricky recently, and when he saw it smeared nice and thickly, he remarked it was like Nana Lil liked it. She had enough butter to leave teeth marks in during her latter years when she decided minding her cholesterol was no longer a priority.

She features in photos around our home and Ricky talks about her when he sees her on our digital photo frame, which has a slideshow of all our important people. I don’t know if Ricky will hold memories of my Nan into later life or if he will just rely on the photos and videos we have, but if I can help him store her in his long-term memory, I will do all I can to.

I have a lifetime of precious memories. She was there on big days, small days, trials and triumphs. I even scored her an extra ticket to my graduation from UCC.

Most people had no idea how much she supported me during my degree. Her house was the place I went to hide when I couldn’t face the relentlessness of my college timetable. When I was exhausted and stressed, I could arrive only to be greeted with tea and homemade scones or a more substantial meal if I needed it. She never asked awkward questions, but she knew me well enough to know that I just wanted a break from things.

If I visited during the day, she would ask as I was leaving if she had seen me or not so that she would keep my secret for me. That became a joke in later years, that she wasn’t a safe house during any war, but for me during college. It was extra sweet to have her at my graduation when I finally got my degree, and she immediately started praying that I would land the job I desired.

We shared great moments, and she taught me that the greatest gift you can give someone is your time and attention.

She was encouraging to an absolute fault and she considered me to be way more wonderful than I am. That always was a lovely feeling because she knew all the parts of my history, had sight of the journey, and still thought I was great as only a Nana really can.

I’m sure there are things she’d like to tell me to cop myself on with, but she valued time, conversation, and being together for as long as I can remember and those are values I’m very glad to have learned directly from her.

There was always a warm welcome in her home, unless she was out gallivanting herself. She was a predictable presence for so long, and she deserves to be mentioned and remembered with great fondness.