2/2 For Nanna
I remember the smell of your hair lacquer, how you’d put my pyjamas on the radiator, and how you’d wash my hair with a jug and brush it with your little blue brush until your arms ached. I remember being allowed to bounce on your bed and roll to the floor, the fan above humming overhead, and the sewing machine in the other room that saved so many of my clothes. I remember you always filling out the crosswords in the newspapers, quickly completing the sudoku, while I scribbled all over the celebrity magazines that came with them, you didn’t mind, you even left a pen out for me. You always had a tape measure on you. You always carried a carrier bag. And there was always Savlon.
I loved asking you about the flowers in your garden, looking at the elephants you collected, and listening to your stories of Grandad. I remember it all: the little table you placed in front of me, the way you heated your milk, how you always threw away mushroom stalks, how you saved washing-up water for the flowers, how you kept sweetener in your bag, and there was always a handkerchief; how the adverts were always too loud; how there was always something in the house that needed doing, the new toilet you didn’t like, the new carpet that was too squishy.
And most of all, I remember your smell, that overwhelming scent of pure love and kindness. If I could have bottled it, I would have kept it forever. The smell of you, like one of my childhood bath potions. My forever friend. My first safe place. My sunlight. I will love and miss you forever.
Thank you for always being there, whether waiting for me outside after school, never a moment late, or now, forever in my heart.
Nicole Winson
04/10/2025
