Today is Sunday. And, incidentally, the last day of my NaBloPoMoMoMo. How did I do? Did I get a post in every day?

So what’s so special about Sundays?

On any typical visit to Brisbane, and for as long as I can remember, Sunday has been the day we visit Nanny and Grandpa’s place for a meal. Most recently (as in the last decade) it has been an 11am meal. We would normally stay for a couple of hours while Nanny served up 3 courses of delicious foods. It would be mostly the same each week, but every now and then she would surprise us with something “a bit different. Just for fun.”

We won’t be going to lunch at Nanny and Grandpa’s today. Nanny’s not doing so well. We don’t know what the future holds for her, but we do know that she won’t be cooking for us at her place again. It’s the end of an era. No more will we sit around Nanny and Grandpa’s kitchen table and laugh and joke and tell Nanny she has cooked too much again. Or listen to her and Grandpa tell stories. Or get a tap on the shoulder and be beckoned to the “back room” where she would give us a little present she had bought for us. We won’t get to see her wave us goodbye from her gate, not going inside until she can’t see the car anymore.

How do you say goodbye to someone who’s still here, but at the same time, isn’t?

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