Taking part in the Big Butterfly Count took me out of my zoned out state of mind for a while, giving me something else to think about other than how incredibly numb and sad I feel at the moment. Since my last post regarding the loss of one of our beloved dogs, sadly my Nan passed away a couple of days ago. It was expected, she’d been terminally ill for a long while. Although I’m relieved she’s no longer suffering, my heart is crushed. At 39 years old I know how lucky I was to still have a grandparent to confide in, to be spoilt rotten by. I will miss that.
I loved listening to her stories. We recently giggled together like a couple of school girls over her confession of having had a huge crush on Stewart Granger in her younger years. She was a beautiful lady; skin as soft as silk, olive complexion and hardly a wrinkle, sparkling eyes and a naughty grin.
I spent 15 minutes counting butterflies the day after her passing, mesmerised by their beauty and grace, smiling inside, because they reminded me of her.