One morning in February I had just got out of bed, my alarm failed to go off that morning and I was meant to meet my Boyfriend at our favourite coffee haunt in the centre of Christchurch where we both live. I called him "Honey I'm so sorry I'm late, I will be there, gimme an hour ok?", He was there already waiting for me, and as usual he was his sweet self and told me not to worry as he was deep into a book anyway so to take my time. I went to change in my room at our 100 year old flat. Then I heard a loud rumble and all of a sudden things started falling.
Today I got in the car in the pouring rain and sat in the drivers seat wondering where shall I go? It's the first whole day off I have had in a while and with all my friend's back at university I really was at a loss for what to do today. So I decided to drive out to the country to visit my Nana's grave to say goodbye before I leave to Canada in a few week's. I hadn't visited her there in a long time and as I drove out there I was thinking about her the whole time. And it made me think how sad it is the way we remember people. She died when I was 12 years old, after a long battle with cancer. I remember how much everyone at the funeral kept saying what a great wife and mother she was, and how nice she was, and thinking they were right, but also that they are all forgetting what an amazing Woman she was and how those things they all were saying did not do her justice.