well hello there blog, long time no speak.
these past few weeks i’ve had a lot of headaches. i get headaches way more often than anyone should, but recently i’ve woken up with excruciating headaches for no reason at all. a week ago i woke up on wednesday and my headache was so bad i was sick, and on friday it was so bad my vision was all blurred and i couldn’t see. obviously this wasn’t ok, but what made it worse was that i had my final spanish exam that day so there was no way i could do it! i had to go to the doctor and get a letter excusing me from my exam and they are sending away my practice exam instead for my final mark.
as well as the headaches i get nosebleeds all the time for no reason too. despite the doctor saying it is only because i have low blood pressure i am seriously starting to think i have a brain tumour, and it’s freaking me out .. now i have to take pills all the time to stop the headaches. i don’t think anyone should have to pop a pill each morning just to make their head feel normal but there you go.
in everything i do i find traces of my grandad bob, like little waves from the afterlife or something. today i was clearing out my room [me and my sister are swapping rooms, so that she will have a bigger room while i'm in glasgow] and i found a little note in a box in my cupboard. it was obviously my grandad bob’s work: it was on a piece of paper that had had a border which had been clumsily cut off, and the words were written in a pen which had never quite started working but that he’d had high hopes of. it said: “dear gemma, thank you very much for my birthday present and card. i hope you had a nice holiday and i’ll see you soon”, then there was a muddy paw-print at the bottom of the page and an X. this just sums up my grandad bob, he’d put so much effort into writing this note and then driving all the way across town to deliver it when i wasn’t even home, just so that rocky the dog could thank me for a birthday present he probably didn’t even know he’d received!
i was cycling to the supermarket today to buy some reduced pineapple and was trying to remember the combination for my bike-lock when i suddenly remembered my grandad bob taking it off his bike and putting it on mine, helping me remember the numbers. “34-36, 34-36. don’t forget it now.” and i didn’t forget it. i never will.
the hardest thing is when i am on check-outs at the supermarket where i work and old couples come in together with the same dynamic my gran and grandad bob had; that constant loving bickering. the old men give me their money and i place the change back into their hands, and i see my grandad bob’s hands in their hands: big and freckled with sunspots and the nails dark with earth and work; the hands i held the second last time i saw him, when in the aftermath of a fit he wasn’t responsive so i held his hand in mine and he still didn’t say anything but squeezed them; the hands i held in his coffin, now waxy and heartbreakingly cold.
i get frustrated sometimes because i want more than anything to believe that he is floating around somewhere out there, watching over us and looking after us as he did in life. i pray every night for this and that we are making him proud, and i would love for him to suddenly appear in some ghostly form beside my bed for a wee chat. i am simultaneously hopeful and scared to see his ghost, if there is such a thing as ghosts, because i am scared of what he would be like, if he would be in pain or if he would be back to robust health and look like he’d just tucked into a good sunday dinner. on the one hand i think it gets harder every day, because every day i come a bit closer to accepting that he is gone. on the other hand if i believe in the afterlife it should get easier every day because each day is bit closer to seeing him again.
my current hobby is watching the whole series of glee whilst eating large quantities of reduced fruit and three cups of tea. i work every single day at the supermarket, apart from thursdays which i savour .. today i celebrated my day off by doing my laundry in scent co-ordinating washing powder, fabric conditioner, and ironing water. if i tell you this was the high point of my day you can probably gain some insight into how eventful things are around here now i have no school .. i also like trying out new recipes, which so far have come off surprisingly well, especially chicken parmigiana from kevinandamanda.com [i now have my whole family addicted to kevinandamanda.com, and when my dad, my gran and i watched amanda's video about scarves we practically self-combusted from joy at her accent!] add this laundry and cooking to the fact that i like furnishing my imaginary house on ikea.com and searching rental properties in seattle and edinburgh and i sound practically middle-aged. is it bad that i sometimes wish i was middle-aged already? ..
and if you were wondering what colour i ended up dying my hair? i dyed it a deep red, but because my hair was so dark it came out as a kind of brown dark red mixture. here’s a picture for photographic evidence: [actually this picture is so small you can barely see but ho hum.]