My nanna

I watched my nanna die a slow slow slow and painful death. I am now 29 she passed when I was 15 my beautiful nanna was 59 years young. She was a strong. Amazing and inspirational women she was a strong Aboriginal women who was raised by a white family, nan was apart of the stolen generation she was lucky her family loved her and gave her the best life but she still had hurt in her eyes and longed to find her Aboriginal family again just to tell them she was loved. My nanna was a mum to 12 children, one who was disabled and my pop had many issues he had 9 strokes long before I was born she was his carer if you asked her she would say "No I am his lover". She never wanted for anything. I can never remember my nan smoking she gave up long before I could remember my memories and I never remember her 100% healthy. I watched her die we were all in the room the curtains were open, the light streaming in the nurse told us to draw the curtains and we refused nan liked the sun on her skin. After was the hardest I went home with my boyfriend who is now my husband and we smoked and I cried, and cried. Years later we found her family, her sisters and brothers, and aunts. Her mum died the same year my sweet sweet nanna passed. My nanna died because of smoking it turned her body against her, this won't happen to me.