One of the school holidays last year (a moment of thanks for a teacher’s life…) I went to visit my grandma. She lives in Bellingen, or ‘Bello’ if you’re a hip local, which is an amazing place were the traditional and classic elderly live in harmony with the new age hippy. It’s beautiful. You can go to the butter factory to lap up your butter intake for the year and then after stop by the organics store for something to detoxify your insides. It actually has the most beautiful farms and flowers as well as a modest fix of quaint buildings and art.

Needless to say I quite enjoy a trip to grandma’s house, mostly because I can spend time with her. Grandma is a perplexing and kind lady. Every time I visit I get to hear stories of farms, rabbit hunting and razzle dazzles from her childhood. Sometimes I get to hear the same story on a number of occasions. She is becoming forgetful and that’s not her fault. So I embrace the things she does remember and try to be patient with the things she doesn’t. This trip I convinced her to break out the photo albums to put some pictures to the stories. She hadn’t looked at them in a while.

Grandma has a way of getting things done. She will opt to boil water on the gas stove top and make toast on the grill. Is there a perfectly good kettle and toaster, well yes, but that would take all the fun out of cooking wouldn’t it. Grandma is also notorious for climbing on rooves. There have been occasions when she has locked herself out of the house, so naturally she climbed up on to the roof to let herself in through her balcony. This came as a worry. She also has no plans of quitting which became clear as we sat drinking coffee together at a cafe and she peered out the window and commented “I wonder how you could get on top of that roof.” Oh dear.

 

I love visiting grandma, and I love the blissful way she navigates through life.