In Memory of Fernande Brunet

 

When someone you love dies, it is hard to express with words how it feels inside. As if a whole world closed and only they had the key. 

 

My grand-mother is gone and I feel a big void.  She won’t laugh again, she won't look at people with her mischievous smile, or taste her favorite meals.  She won't go to the opera or play cards with her friends, “rinse her mouth with oysters after eating too much foie gras”, try to convince us that she announced “80 heart” instead of “100 heart” while playing contrée (that was truly an awesome bluff), open her eyes really big when her picture was being taken and all the other things that made her eyes light up and her spirit joyful.  She is gone, and I miss her.

In my heart, memories flow back and dance: the big plates of paella she cooked when her friends came over, the time when my brother and I were exhausted trying to follow her walking up Rue Docteur Escat and she turned around, carrying a big basket of groceries and giggled while telling us “Come on, you two are young! I do this every day!”, the “little heels” she wore everywhere, even on hikes, the time she reached into her bra in the market in Gardanne, burst out laughing and said “there is such a mess in there” (she kept all her valuables in her bra), the sparkles in her eyes when she would tell us about the day she got engaged (picture below - I miss you too Papi), the dinners at “Chateau des Fleurs”, her serious look while reading her dictionary for crosswords (she knew it by heart), the time she told us that she had found the solution to the mystery of our leaking swimming pool - the bats were drinking it – and her smile, her strength, the big pots of “soupe au pistou” on the veranda, the way she kept the flowers I sent for weeks and said they were beautiful even after they had turned brown, her surprised and amused look the day her washing machine decided to dance (jump erratically would be more accurate), the warm pajamas she always bought us at Christmas, the way she kissed my brother and I, her amazing ability to knit anything in record time, “Questions pour un Champion” and Julien Lepers that she watched religiously, her outstanding Christmas meals that challenged the size of our stomachs, and so, so many other memories.

Ma mamie chérie pour toujours. Merci pour tout. Merci d’avoir été toi. Avec tout mon amour.

Ta petite fille