Gramp would only ever see the second of my six children born to me. He had already secured himself as an much admired role model in my first son's life, and I expected him to be just the same with my second son. But as fate gave me one thing, she would take another thing.

As I was growing up, going through all that I did, I never imagined that my grandparents would one day not be there. I took them for granted, assumed that they always would be around. But people get older, people get ill. Right up until the day that he died, gramp had a sharp mind. I loved having conversations with him, because he was always so wise and so forthright.

He was the very first person that I ever shared my poetry with. "It's very good, Mary Rose, but it's very morbid, can't you write something a little happier?" I took on board what my gramp had said that day. I went away and began writing less morose things. With gramp, I always listened. I always valued his opinion.

When I first told him about Rick asking me to move in, gramp was delighted. "He's a good man. I know he will look after you both." Gramp saying that, made me happy. Rick himself was happy. He too, admired my gramp very much. They would often sit together, talking about work or sport. "I want you to have this, Rick." One day, gramp proudly gave Rick his beer mug. That particular mug was only ever brought out for special occasions, and only ever given to people who my gramp thought a lot of. When I told Rick that, he was beyond chuffed. To him, it was like my gramp was giving him his final blessing and acceptance of being the man who would be in mine and my son's life forever. That mug, represented his wholehearted approval.

Rick still has that mug. With pride, he will often get it out from the kitchen cupboard and announce. "I've got your gramps beer mug." For he himself still knows, the significance of him being given it. Now that gramp is no longer with us, that significance means so much more.

As I have mentioned before, it was only while my life was coming together, that I had noticed how much my grandparents were both ageing. There were times when I would tell myself that they couldn't be around forever, but I just couldn't face the thought that they one day wouldn't be. The two of them, they were my security blankets. No matter how old I was, and how old they got, they would always be my security blankets. But like I said, fate gave me one thing and took another.

When my second son was born, for the first month, I was on a motherhood high. With him, I read everything I could about becoming a mother. With him, I wanted to be a better and more prepared mother. So my pregnancy felt like my very first pregnancy. Everything was different with that pregnancy. I was happy and settled. I had Rick, just as happy and settled by my side. After my hellish first labour, I longed for a much less traumatic second one.

Nan and gramp were very much a part of that pregnancy and my high hopes for what was to come. With pride, they bought things for the new baby. With the same pride, they watched my belly grow. We were all so excited.

Apart from having an anterior lip during the pushing part of my labour, having my second son was most certainly easier and far less traumatic than my first one. With the cervix getting caught between the pelvis and my son's head, then my son needing oxygen before he made that all-important first cry; those were the only hellish moments. After that initial panic, I was a mummy again.

I couldn't wait to share my joy with my nan and gramp. Of course, nan had scooped my newborn son into her arms, but gramp chose to simply stand back with an emotional pride sitting everywhere on his face. He never believed that a newborn child should be handed around, he was old-fashioned, believing that an infant should only be with its mother. It would take my gramp nearly three months to take my son into his loving and wise arms. I caught that moment on camera, and had planned on giving a copy of it to my gramp for his 90th birthday...but gramp never reached that milestone.

For a few weeks, he had been in and out of hospital, which always ended up with him being released the following day. I was so wrapped up in breastfeeding, having little to no sleep, that I truly just thought that my gramp was suffering a little blip with his health, and would bounce back just like he always did. But on the day that would be our final time together, I think that gramp knew he was dying, and that he was preparing me for it.

"You're happy, aren't you, Mary Rose?" Gramp had asked me on that sunny Saturday afternoon.

Sitting on the arm of his chair, like I often did, I answered him with an inner contentedness. "I am, Gramp."

He nodded, then sat taller. "I can go, knowing that you're safe and that you're okay."

Stroking his sleeked down Grey hair (another thing that I often did) I began teasing him a little. "Stop talking like you're going somewhere, Gramp, you're not going anywhere."

He smiled while looking out of the living room, like he knew something that I didn't yet know. "I went and sat out in the sunshine today. I just wanted to feel its warmth one last time." With that same smile, Gramp wistfully went on. "I can tell you this, because I know you'll understand, Mary Rose. Last night, I was woken by a bright white light. I know my time is coming to an end. I know I am dying." Not once did he sound afraid or fearful. As always, Gramp spoke with wise calmness. "I can go, knowing that you're okay, that you're safe with Rick. I know he's a good man, who is going to be a good father and a good husband."

Although I was listening to Gramp, I still couldn't accept what he was trying to share with me. "If I am going to marry Rick, I'll be needing you to walk me down that aisle...so you can't go anywhere."

Gramp chuckled, then jovially groaned a little. "I'm proud of you, Mary Rose. You're a good girl, and I'll always be proud of you." I think that not even gramp himself could then tell me that he knew he wouldn't be the one to walk me down the aisle at my wedding.

But when gramp said that, I know I hugged him, I hugged him hard. "Thank you, Gramp, but do me a favour, will you?"

Pulling himself back from my enthusiastic hugging of him, he looked into my eyes with a smile. "What's that?" He asked, with affection there within his small brown eyes.

"When you next shave, try not to take chunks out of your face and neck, huh?" I teasingly pointed to every piece of tissue paper that was stuck to his skin, absorbing all of the blood from where he had so badly shaved himself earlier that day.

I'll forever cherish those last moments with my beloved gramp. Every conversation, every hug, every touch, every joke, every laugh—I'll always cherish them.

Because on the Sunday morning, nan called me. She was crying, barely audible, but I remember the words that ripped the bottom of my world away. "He's gone, Mary Rose...he's gone."

Gramp had been rushed to hospital with breathing problems late that Saturday night. Nan had called his daughter from his first marriage, who insisted that gramp went to hospital. Gramp himself didn't want to go. Nan told me that he kept saying to the paramedics that he knew he was dying and that he wanted to die at home. But I guess that his daughter and Nan both thought that he should go to hospital. I still regret not being there that night. I regret not being there for my gramp, but he didn't want my nan to call me because he knew I was breastfeeding and not getting much sleep.

Being the proud man that he so wonderfully was; he refused to get undressed and get into a hospital bed. In the end, he fell asleep in a chair beside his hospital bed. At about 6:00am, he had woken up, said he needed the toilet before standing up from his chair. As soon as my gramp stood up, he suffered a massive heart attack and sadly died.

There will always be a part of myself that shall never find peace about that. I'll not ever want to forgive myself for not being there as he took his very last breath.

I always thought that I would fall apart without my gramp. But I couldn't. I was a mother to two children, one of which I was still breastfeeding, so I had to stay together, I couldn't fall apart.

If I'm honest, my gramps death was a blur. I had to keep being a mother. I had to keep moving forwards. When my Nan had asked me whether I wanted to see my gramp in the chapel of rest, I just said yes. I wasn't really thinking about whether I did want to see him, I was just trying to get through my mothering day without falling apart. But you know, I think my gramp tried to stop me from seeing him that day, he didn't want me to see him dead in some casket. For on that morning, I had taken my older son to school. I had driven the few miles to the school, drove right into the school grounds, then taken my son into his class. It was only when I got back to the car, had I noticed that I had a completely flat tyre.

It made no sense.

I would have known if I had been driving with a flat.

In a panic, I had called my dad. I told him that I needed to be at the chapel of rest to meet Jason and then to see my gramp. Dad himself had a lot of respect for my gramp, so he came right away in my time of need. "Are you sure you never felt anything? That tyre couldn't be any flatter." Dad had asked me, with worry and confusion stretched across all of his fatherly features.

"No, I felt nothing." Was my own confused reply to him.

Dad then proceeded to change my tyre, allowing me to get to the chapel of rest in good time. So with Jason by my side, I saw my beloved gramp. In a small, chilled room, with a candle lit upon a table in the corner of that room, with some tissues in a box beside of it; there laid the man who meant everything to me. He was such a big part of my life, yet oddly looked so small inside that casket. That is something I don't think I'll ever forget, he just looked so small. In life, he was a tall and proud man, but in death he looked so small and frail. Jason had stood behind me, he never wanted to get close...yet I, I needed and wanted to be close to my gramp one last time. Taking his cold hand into mine, I began talking to him. To Jason, I showed him the cuts on gramps face, caused by his very bad attempt at shaving on that last Saturday that I saw him. I stroked his bushy eyebrows, the ones that he used to always waggle to make me laugh. The ones that I had stroked since I was a baby girl.

I had never seen a dead person before, so upon seeing and holding my gramps hand, it was then that my spiritual beliefs truly cocooned themselves all around me—my gramps spirit was gone.

In that casket, was only the shell of the wonderful man he used to be. His spirit, his essence of what made him who he truly was, had gone.

So I kissed his cold forehead, placed the letter that I had written to him beneath his lifeless hands, then I slowly left that small, chilled room. "Please leave that letter in with him?" I emotionally asked the lady in reception. That letter, along with a lock of my hair, both of my son's hair and even a little lock of my dogs fur, was cremated with my dear gramp. All of how I felt about him, was to forever be with him. For I knew, that he would forever be with me.

After that chapel of rest visit, I was strangely unsettled, strangely spooked. I don't know whether it was because I had truly understood that my gramp was indeed dead. Or was it that I had a new understanding about death and our spirits no longer being held within the confines of our bodies. Whatever it was, it gave me the heebie-jeebies, it made me fearful of the shadows during many restless nights.

Myself and nan talked about it. She herself chose not to see my gramp after he died, and I wished I had done the same. To comfort me, nan gave me a box of my gramps belongings. In it, there was his wedding ring, his shaving brush, his hair brush, his favourite tie, some old tax discs from his driving days—things that I could fondly remember him by.

"He would want you to have this, Mary Rose...you always were the apple of his eye." Nan emotionally told me.

The truth is, I knew that.

I always had.

Not even his own daughter shared the bond that gramp and I shared. Behind many of her smiles, I always felt a quiet resentment emanating from her. Even at his funeral, she tried to ignore me, tried to keep a distance. That had annoyed me, so I made a point of going over to where she was with her family. I hid my annoyance well, I maintained a dignified politeness. I even acknowledged her young granddaughter, noticing her head full of cute and tiny ringlets. "What beautiful hair she has." I reached out to gently touch the end of them.

To which gramps daughter pulled her granddaughter away from me, before curtly stating. "She hates having her hair touched."

I think all those years of quiet resentment for me, were finally ready to be heard once my gramp had died. But you know what? I simply turned and walked away. I turned and walked away, because I knew that not even she could ever take away what myself and gramp had. She would now have to fight her own guilt, for never putting enough into her relationship with her father, so that she and him could have once shared what we had so affectionately shared. Yes, I was happy to leave her with that.

While I walked away from her resentment and guilt, I held my head high. For it was my picture that was found in my gramps wallet. It was my picture, that he proudly kept in his wallet at all times. It was I, who would forever be the apple of his eye. Which is why it upset me so much to feel so unsettled about seeing my gramp in the chapel of rest. I mean, it was him. Him, who had loved and supported me ever since I was a baby. To see him dead, had completely freaked me out.

But gramp, I think he knew me better than I knew myself. I think he knew I wouldn't cope with seeing him dead. I think he tried to stop me from going to see him. The flat tyre, that was him trying to stop me going to the funeral home. Only, I didn't see the signs, the spiritual signs.

After three months of feeling nothing but unsettled and afraid, I was to have a dream that would change everything. This dream, it would bring me peace and more spiritual understanding.

In this dream, gramp was sat at the top of a tunnel. He was wearing no clothes, just a serene smile. "I need you to push me into the light, Mary Rose?"

I'm crying, totally overcome by the sight of him. "I can't, Gramp! I miss you! I can't do it." Is all that I could sob to him.

Gramp just remained calm, so serenely calm. "I'm okay. I've come to show you that I'm okay, but I now need you to push me into the light...it's time for you to let me go."

Still, I sobbed. "I can't, Gramp! I just can't!"

Turning a little, the smile on my gramps face was so warm, it was almost alight with its warmness. "Mary Rose, look at me?" He had waited for me to look into the full depths of his kind and affectionate eyes. "You can see that I really am okay. You can see that, can't you?"

Weakly, I nodded. "Yes." Fell from out of my emotionally-crippled throat.

"Then it's time. It's time for you to push me into the light." He turned his back on me, leaving me with just one last smile.

Placing my hands on his bare shoulders, I was still crying. "I love you, Gramp." Only then do I look into the dark tunnel that my gramp was nakedly sat at the top of. Only then, do I see the faraway white glow that is brightly beckoning him.

Without turning to look at me, Gramp says one final thing. "I'll always be there for you, Mary Rose. Always. Now please push me into the light?"

My sobs were quieter, but hadn't completely yet left me. With those sobs still causing an ache deep within my throat, I pushed my gramp into that dark tunnel. I pushed him towards the light. I had watched his body be embraced by that welcoming light. Then, I woke up.

That was the day when my spiritual beliefs had cemented themselves within my soul. That spirituality, would now be constantly growing within me.

I have told only a few people about my dream about gramp that night. Nan, was the first person I ever told. Like me, she believed that gramp came to me that night. He was wanting to take away all of the restlessness that I had been carrying around for months, he wanted to lighten my heart and my soul.

When I woke up after that dream, something had changed. I felt lighter. Happier. And to this day, I believe that was because of gramp.

In life, he had always been there for me.

In death, he still is.

Over the years, my beloved gramp still protects me. From wherever he is, he still likes to visit me in my dreams, or to leave a sign for me to know that he's never far away. During a difficult labour with my third son, during a time when I didn't think I could go on, my gramp came to me. Rick said he will always remember it, because I was on all fours, exhausted with tears silently slipping down my cheeks. He said I was nearly asleep when I suddenly opened my eyes and began focusing on the wall in front of me. To that wall, I was smiling, like really smiling. Rick and the midwife both noticed that wide smile of mine, and at the same, they both asked whether I was okay.

I can still feel that smile on my face, even after all these years, I still remember the warm glow that had appeared in front of me; a glow that had my gramps face shining from within it. "It's going to be okay, my gramp is here now, so I know it's going to be okay." Was what I told both Rick and the midwife.

And it was okay. Even though my son was back-to-back and even though the midwife thought that I might have to be taken by ambulance to have a caesarean at another hospital, I safely delivered my son.

With Rick by my physical side, Gramp was by my spiritual side.

He always has been, and he always will be....always.