Everything comes to an end.
This week I have been trying to find the right words to bring Gran Lessons to its logical conclusion. It has been difficult. Perhaps writing in Gran’s voice for so long makes it challenging to suddenly revert to myself. Perhaps I am sad to have concluded this journey. There are so many more lessons that could have been written. Is forty enough? What did we forget? Was I honest enough? Why now, have I forgotten how to write? Is Gran happy with it?
Admist all of this though is also the sedated feeling of relief.
A few years ago I attempted to hike the Great Range in the Adirondacks. It was outside of my comfort zone and carried a small degree of recklessness. Not a lot, but a little for a novice hiker. Nine mountains, twenty-seven miles, and hours of isolation. Despite having spent time in the area with friends, this was a step up to something else. I prepared properly. People knew where I was. I was fit enough. There was a stream to purify water at the halfway point. I had enough gear to survive a night if I was injured. Yet at 5:30 am, when I stepped alone into the woods, I was sure I would fail. The quiet sounds of the forest were too threatening and felt foreign.
Would a bear attack a lone hiker?
I became sure a bear would attack a lone hiker. It would attack me.
My anxiety spiked up to a level that felt seismic. Where are the other hikers? What do they know?
Run back now, my mind whispered.
Right now.
No, keep going a calmer part replied. Relax. Bears don’t attack people here. Ever. Get a little higher on the first mountain, bears don’t live at the top of mountains anyway.
How do you know?
They live in the valleys.
Are you sure?
Yes. What bear is going to want to live on top of a mountain anyway? Get up on the ridge. You’ll be fine. Just keep going up.
Well, what about when I have to walk back through the valley this evening?
You’ll be too tired to care by then, my adventurous mind replied. Plus you won’t have a choice. He’d been right. I slowly summited each mountain in turn. Now do this one. Now this one. At some point in the journey, there was a point when I knew I would do it. The fear was replaced with some sort of knowing glow. I floated the rest of the way, over the mountains and then through miles and miles of silent valley.
The bears weren’t there. The end felt like a beautiful relief.
Gran Lessons feels similar.
The act of telling people there would be forty lessons. The weekly cadence. My past experiences of starting projects and…ahem…perhaps not finishing them. My work. The start of this project felt aspirational but perhaps not realistic.
I’ll never do this, there that voice again. Never.
You will, said the other. Call Gran. Write. Record. Repeat. Slowly but surely. The lessons clicked off in turn. Learning about Gran’s life before I was born and learning more about my Mum as a child felt cathartic. It was enjoyable. Gran and I chatted every week. By the time summer approached, I knew I would do it, and there again…that floating feeling to the finish. If there is a lesson in this for myself. Just keep going. Finishing things that we start feels good.
This has been a wonderful experience. I am thankful to so many people. To Gilly for sending pictures and letting me know frankly whenever I got something completely wrong.
“That’s not exactly how it happened Robs, I didn’t go to America as a Nanny,” she said, my writer’s integrity spiraling down the phone.
“Maybe you’re forgetting?” I countered, “Gran was sure.”
“She might have been sure,” she replied. “If it’s any consolation, I wish it had happened.”
Rewritten history, we agreed. For now. We’d edit the book.
To the kind people on substack who messaged me with support, and especially Katie, Wendy, Diane, Ward, Shelly, and Lisa who messaged regularly with encouragement. It felt uplifting to know people were reading. Thank you. To Meghan…for listening to my read-throughs, and being the incredibly kind and supportive person that you are. Love you! And to Maddy and Bella, for engaging as much as could be expected for busy teenagers. Love you too. To my family in the UK, and Edie for being the youngest listener, thanks for being so supportive. Can’t wait to see you all in February.
Finally, and most importantly. Gran. You are the kindest, most wonderful human being I know. Thank you for trusting me to do this for you. It has been some journey. Sometime next year, we will be putting this into a short book. Gran and I will work on a few edits and omissions in February, and shortly after that, it will be available.
Thank you so much for reading.
Take care, and enjoy your holidays.
Robin
Oh, Robin, I have so enjoyed reading the beautifully written weekly lessons and am quite sad to think that they have now come to and end.I’ll be looking forward to buying the book to share with others. You and Sheila have done a wonderful job! Well done. What a lovely and special thing to have made together- a true labour of love .
Such a perfect and beautiful ending to the story. I have absolutely loved reading this series. I will miss it. I can not wait for the book so that I can buy it for those I love as gifts and read them again and again. Please share when it's ready! Also, I didn't realize until recently that you were writing them as you go. I thought they were already completed and you just released them weekly. Makes it all even more special and impressive somehow. Thank you so much for this great work. Happiest of holidays to you, your family and your Gran and may God continue to bless you all always.