Yesterday was a difficult day.  Three long weeks after she unexpectedly passed away, it was finally time to say goodbye to my Nana.

Only her closest family attended her funeral, and between us we alternated from crying desperate tears of sadness that she is no longer here with us, to reflecting fondly on happy memories we collectively shared at the little things she used to say and do, her sense of humour and the times we spent together over the years.

As I sat listening to my Mum and my aunt bravely reading the eulogy they’d written together, tears silently streaming down my face as Nana was peacefully reunited with my Grandad, it struck me that the most important thing about the day (apart from saying goodbye) was that the whole family were together again, which is exactly what she would have wanted.

Nana was the heart of the family you see.  She was just always there, content to be surrounded by the chaos as she quietly worked away in the background to make sure that everything ran smoothly – whether that was cooking one of her famous roast dinners on a Sunday, keeping the house clean and tidy, or hosting a get-together for us all at Christmas.  I can’t think about Nana without thinking of everyone else in my family – my Mum, my aunts and uncles, my cousins.  For us all to be together again, celebrating her life, was perhaps the biggest gift of all that she gave us.

So as I sat on the train yesterday evening, slowly making my way home, I watched the sinking sun shine out brightly from behind the scurrying clouds, I saw the rainbow peek through the sudden downpours of lashing rain, and I thought about my family.

It’s all too easy these days to fall into the trap of ‘busy-ness’.  To put off that phone call you’ve been meaning to make because you haven’t got enough time.  To not get round to writing that letter you meant to write because there are more important things to do.  To reschedule visits to people you haven’t seen in a long time because you’ve got too much work to do and too many other commitments to honour.

I’m guilty of all of the above and quite frankly it needs to change.

Because what on earth could be more important than family?  And just so we’re on the same wavelength here, by ‘family’ I don’t just mean those you are tied to by blood.  I mean all of those people in your life that you love – your partner, your best friend, those people who love you for just being you, and who you love back in return because they are them.

Life is too short to miss out on those precious moments of connection, of understanding, of sharing and of having fun together.  It really, really is.

So I’m logging off now to grab my dairy and my phone, to go and get in touch with everyone that’s important to me – to arrange visits, to make coffee dates, and to connect with them and tell them I love them.

I’ll leave you with a poem that was read during the service, which perfectly sums up what it is that I’m trying to say:

She is gone

You can shed tears that she is gone

Or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back

Or you can open your eyes and see all she’s left.

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her

Or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she’s gone

Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind

Be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what she’d want:

Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.