Grandma June

Life is so rich in that there are people that you meet along the journey who touch your world in ways you could never anticipate.

Dallas' Grammy June is one of those people.

Grammy June grew up in a world that saw a Hitler and a Mussolini. She lived through the Great Depression; was witness to World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, the Chinese Cultural revolution, the Falklands and the independence of Western Samoa. She grew up on a farm and knew the ardours of physical labour. Grammy June is a very practical woman with a wicked, dry, sense of humour. She does not suffer fools lightly.

Even before I officially married into this family, my children and I were immediately accepted with open arms and incorporated into the extended family structure. There was no pussy footing around. Dylan and Liv had a new set of grandparents, cousins, an aunt, uncle and two lively great-grandmas. From their New Zealand relatives, they received emails and cards celebrating their birthdays. They participated in Skype conversations and their welfare was inquired after during any discussion.

This past Christmas, my children had a ridiculous quantity of gifts waiting for them under a Cromwell Christmas tree and it is one of those that I'd like to share with you today.

Grammy June hasn't been feeling all that well for the better part of a year. She suffers from near debilitating diverticulitis and the indignities that come with the disease are hard to accept. Christmastime, she made the decision to get on the plane with us in Auckland and fly down to the South Island for five of the best days I have ever personally spent in my life.

One day, either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, she pulled me aside and asked to speak with me privately. We went back to her room and it was there that she sat me down on the bed opposite her own and handed me a package.


She explained that inside was Liv's "real" gift for this Christmas but she felt it best that I hold onto it until the timing was more appropriate. Puzzled, I asked what was inside.


She opened it to reveal this:

This outfit is for Olivia's firstborn child, which Grandma June figures she's not likely to meet but on that special day, whenever it comes, she wanted Olivia to know just how happy she is for her. It is hand-knit, with the most delicate details like wee little rosebuds and dainty pearlescent buttons.

I wept.

While it can be considered a thoughtful gift befitting of a practical woman like Grandma June, it meant a whole lot more to me than that. Sitting on our twin beds sharing a conversation and receiving the present on Olivia's behalf, is a poignant memory I'll treasure forever.