I woke up sharply at 5am from a dream that my mum was phoning me. She wasn’t but I had a missed call from her from a few hours earlier. Having spent the last week waking up every morning in utter amazement that Jeanie was still going, I knew what a missed call meant.

Ma was awake too, so we chatted for a while, then both decided to go for walks in the early sunshine. Bristol was eerily quiet but incredibly beautiful. I walked a long way before turning back, ended up being 5 miles. Matt was still asleep when I got home, but when he was up he spent the day with me in the garden, on constant hug duty.

Lately I’ve got quite used to lockdown, and not particularly eager for it to end, but today it was weird to feel so far away from home and all the people I wanted to hug.

For the last decade we’ve been mourning the loss of the Jeanie she was once, and the arrival of the day we knew would eventually come. It’s quite hard for me to separate the memory of her with the memory of the sadness we’ve had to endure as she slowly slipped away from us. However, me and my brother were so lucky to grow up with such a brilliant grandmother, whose strength and willpower were evident right until the end, and that’s the Jeanie I need to remember. I’m so grateful for the amazing care she received for the last years of her life, especially since the same people took such good care of my mum this past week too.