This morning I woke thinking about these two things: My Gran and money. Connecting them both I thought about how she used to give me pocket money - not only as a child, but as a mature student at university, handing me a tenner and saying spend it for me. Those handouts kept me afloat. But my visits to her kept me sane and secure.
Shortly I came down to breakfast - just as the postman delivered a cheque from my Uncle re my Grandma's affairs. It's been five years since she passed away so this was completely unexpected.
Enclosed was a comforting note saying that although not much was left, she had always thought she had the most talented grandchildren in the world, and the idea that she might be able to help them one day, was very important to her.
I wept for Gran. I wept for the fact that throughout her life Gran gave us so much more than money. I wept for the fact that only ten minutes earlier I had been thinking of her; and that even today we have a connection.
