First things first, and once again, apologies! Time has rapidly slipped away from me throughout a busy few months. The days and weeks since my last update have really taken me on a rollercoaster ride of emotions at a breakneck speed; from attending the UK Games Expo, to losing my beloved Nan Bridie. My inane ramblings are far too inadequate a tribute to such an amazing and colourful lady, but this post – and its title – are dedicated to the memory of Mary Bridget Langworthy; mother to seven children, grandmother to nineteen grandchildren, great grandmother to…well, I think we’re still counting.
Losing my nan, who was such an icon to our family and who represented a force of nature personified, certainly hit me hard. The points I raised during an earlier introspective post were driven home deeply; ‘Little Nan’ and I, like so many of our family, had spent a lot of time together during my youth. Throughout my early years the Langworthy’s would regularly gather at my grandparents home for lively celebrations that ranged from birthdays to Christmas. Sadly, the older I became the less we seemed to gather, though I made sure to pay regular visits during my far-ranging paper delivery rounds; your Nelson Squares were always a treat nan, though my jaws still ache from crunching on your Rock Cakes!
Our long talks usually settled into a discussion on life and the meaning of the universe. Her sharp wit and wily intellect never failed to amaze me during our long debates, as she generally hid them behind a matriarchal determination to provide stability to our expanding clan, and we became friends as much as nan and grandson. I know she appreciated the time we spent together and I shall always remember those years fondly.
We picked up our talks once again when I returned home from the Army, though I let myself lose touch when I crossed the water to Kernow a short while later. And although I have certainly had my fair share of ups and downs throughout the years since, I also let myself forget one other key aspect to my life: I’m lucky to be a small part of a large and loving extended family.
There is no excuse and I’ll never get back those lost years, but you have given me the slap to the head that I needed, brought us all back together, and have taught me to hold on to the family I have. I know you will be proud of how we have all pulled together.
You were an institution Nan, and a fulcrum for the family; though you may have passed on, you will always be with us.