November 30th, 1989
I’m on the train heading home and just finished writing a letter to David. I feel really bad that I left him hanging in Japan but with the shocking news of Nana’s passing, I forgot to ask Lorna to ring and let him know why I never made it.
I’ve been listening to “This Woman’s Work,” over and over again on my Walkman and I’ve never really understood that song fully, until today. Trust Kate Bush to make it all make sense.
Nana was buried today and I don’t feel the need to write too much because I know it’s something I’ll never forget. Feeling the rain pelting on my face as Nana’s coffin was lowered into the ground and witnessing the agony on mum’s face was all too much.
My cousin Yvonne and her boyfriend Gary dropped me off at the train station, which I was thankful for. I know Yvonne loved our Nana and she looked so sad when we said goodbye at the station. Yesterday, I overheard mum’s sister telling our great Aunt (in not so hushed tones) that Yvonne is pregnant. Yvonne didn’t mention anything to me and I didn’t feel comfortable asking her, so I guess time will tell.
Now at home after what felt like a never-ending journey. After today’s events, I hated coming into the dark house, alone. Tini is with Janice and Terry and if it wasn’t so late (it’s almost half eleven) I’d go and pick him up.
There was a pile of post waiting on the mat and an envelope stuck halfway through the letterbox. I recognized the scribbly writing on the last two letters of my name right away and grabbed the envelope. I tore it open and my heart did a little flip when I read:
Sorry about your Nana.
Ring me when you get home.
I don’t care what time it is, just ring me. Ok?
I wasted no time picking up the phone.
Ben’s on his way over.