The neighbor's dog kept crying in a distinctly pitiful tone the night before Grandma died. It was a small, sorrowful sound. My sister and I recognized that sound from some 15 years ago. Our dog (we had him when i was still a young girl), kizzy, died after crying in such similar tones. kizzy, on the evening the python swallowed and vomited him and his 6 puppies, cried, like he knew he would be murdered that night. Older sister Jane and I reminisced about Kizzy a bit and went to bed. I felt a little bit of death hanging around...like a to-be. Ominous.
The Next morning, Mother called. Great Grandma, my mother's ma, had died. The Dog is barking now.
Grandma is dead.
All I remember about her chats is her account of the day I was born. I wasn't as close to her as most of my older siblings and I feel a sense of deprive about it. When mother and father left for England to study (before I was born), three of my older ones were left in the care of Grandma until my parents returned for them. Last I saw granny? Years. I am sad too that I do not have a photo with her. But then, when you ask how granny looked like, I would reply;
'Granny had the kindest eyes. She was strong, resilient and tough. She was approximately 110 years old, but ate meat till the day she died and enjoyed the life she lived'.
Telling Merit. 2/7/2013
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