Spring cleaning nostalgia

For many years of my life, my Nana opening up her cottage was an important annual event. Whether I was two thousand kilometres away and reading about it in her letters, or at ground zero helping to sweep up dead flies, the opening of the cottage felt like a part of my life.

This year, as I clean up my house which has been shut up for the winter, my thoughts turn to my Nana. I wish that I could still pop down the road for a cup of tea, a hand of cards and a chat. 

How happy she would be to hear that there are no signs of incursions by mice with their dreaded Hanta virus. How I know she would tell the tale of when they were children and there was a bounty on flies - they were given, I believe, a penny for every hundred fly carcasses (really? Did my great-grandparents actually count them?).

I love that I carry these memories and my Nana's presence in my heart. And at the same time, I can't help but wish she were still here in person to share in moments like these.

Here's to you, Nana! Indomitable champion of spring cleaning, fly killer and indefatigable cheerer-onner.

I miss you.