Choice

After yesterdays visit to Uncle Andy we headed southwards down the east coast to Norfolk and a visit to my Nan.
Nan has lived on the farm for seventy years - the last fifty in the same house that she and my Grandfather build together. For twenty one of those years she's been alone since he died, choosing to mourn then remember and celebrate him - forsaking all others true to vow's that she's clung to and to some extent defined herself by.
Nan's now 90 and living in the farmhouse on her own. I'm 350 miles away to the Northwest my Aunt is the same to the South - Norfolk has never been a great place to get to. We're fortunate that she has friends (the 75 year old gardener for one!) who call in and will get shopping for her - but if I'm honest it causes me worry to think of her on her own. Most days she'll potter in the garden - and with the aid of her chest freezer she still grows about half of the fruit and veg she eats - the rest she sells via a blackboard at the gate - mostly for pence - but she likes folk coming to her door for a natter - some of them have been regulars for nearly all those fifty years.
We've had health scares - I've sped cross country and jumped onto planes - much to her chagrin - but I've learnt (the hard way) as has my Aunt, never to suggest that my Nan move elsewhere - and god help anyone who's daft enough to mention the 'home' word. Nan resolutely wants to die in her own home of her own choosing. As I, and much more so her, have grown older I've found this easier to come to terms with - its her choice - made a long time ago, reaffirmed daily and I think it's kept her strong. I'm saddened to think the day is getting closer - but I'm proud of her and support the choice she's made to live the life and ultimately have the death, that she believes is right.