Win. Happy Birthday.

So here we go… August 3rd.

I know I know I have not been on here for a while, and there is so much I need to put into words because life has been utterly grand to say the least.

Today though, I remember my grandmother. Winnie.

This woman was everything to me, and I often remember her. Her scent. The feeling of her skin, which was draped in oil of Olay. Remember that magic!

Some of my fondest memories are all held within her walls of her tiny little home. The feeling of her stripy carpet that I would spend hours lazing over. Building card houses, playing jaxs, building puzzles, and forever wondering “is there actually any underlay in here” The floor was like a fucking rock.

I remember the old TV that was brown, had tiny legs and we had to turn the knob for the channels. That’s right kids no fucking remotes here. We would often watch “Murder she wrote” and “Tea Bag” She loved her daytime soap operas too.

On the TV sat a huge handmade boat. It was cool as fuck, and I always wonder what happened to that beautiful big boat. Her house filled with photos of her kids, and her million grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Nan was always perched up in her recliner in the corner. She would be click clacking away with her knitting engulfed in conversation with me. Laughter and always smiling.

I don’t know how good my memory is but these are the things I remember. We all know that we remember things different to others.

I remember her as the best fucking women ever. The gentle women who would hug me tight and let me chop her wood. Take us on adventures to “The Donkey House” for dress ups and teddy bears picnics in gigantic gardens. Always an orchard filled with fresh fruit, and cocky screaming nearby.

She would let me ride front seat as we delivered the mail around the island in her tiny blue car. The mail spread across the dashboard as we bumped along the road. We would always stop to chat to people, and I would explore huge gardens. Playing alone in the tress, watching cats, and venturing in the areas I wasn’t allowed. I was always looking through doors, and shed’s I shouldn’t be.

Mischief in my soul.

Those memories are stored inside me like it was yesterday.

Her home was always warm; the old wood fire was always my thing. I wanted to stockpile it I loved chopping her wood and doting around after her. Watering her plants, helping her bath and do her washing.

Nan was a part of the CWA, and I remember her heading off on a few bus tours. Travelling. Her goofy parliament house hat that was fucking giant. She was so proud of that hat!

To me it was a million holidays away from me. It was probable one.

Life was simple then, and I use to drape myself in her scarves. Nans always had a dress up room, and I loved it. I was basically living in Nania as Winnie had those big old wooden wardrobes. Trying on her shoe’s and sifting through her jewellery box.

My imagination was always running wild with stories and make believe.

Nan’s driveway was lined with beautiful roses. I liked to pick them, cutting their thorns off so no one was hurt. I remember there being many colours, and the smell was beautiful.

We would sleep side by side in 2 single beds, but every morning I would jump up and squish myself into her bed. She would giggle as she wrapped her old Nan arms around, me.

Being with her, I felt so loved and so seen.

Winnie was in a nursing home when she passed away. I remember visiting her, and as she laid there, in her last few hours her eyes slowly opened, and she looked at me.

That memory haunts me. She smiled and closed her eyes again.

I was laying in JJ’s arms in his parent’s house when I felt her leave. I woke, and as my heart space collapsed, I gasped and said to JJ “She’s gone JJ”

It was like losing a part of myself at that moment, as not a minute later my father called to say she was gone.

I had felt her leave. It was like my skin being pulled off, and then everything stops.

These moments are the moment’s I can’t explain but make me realise energy is everything.

Her soft skin, her curlers in her hair, a sea shanty from the roadhouse, her big, long boobs, her pencilled on eyebrows….. she was Winnie.

My Nan.

To me more than just my grandmother.

Forever my guardian angel.

I always hope she is looking over us, and hope that she adores my children.

I know she would. I know they would have loved her too.

They would have all had so much fun together.

Sometimes people leave, and you lose a part of yourself. She was one of those people. Maybe I am too emotional or maybe she just left a huge imprint on me.

I’ll forever miss you.

Happy Birthday Winnie.

I received your blue jay yesterday.

Thank you.

x Sezzy

What Your Loved One Might Be Saying Through the Blue Jay:

“Use your voice, I’m with you.”
They may be encouraging you to speak your truth or make a bold move you've been unsure about.

“You’re protected.”
Just as Blue Jays guard their nests fiercely, this may be a reminder that you're watched over and safe to take the next step.

“I see what you’re doing — and I’m proud.”
Especially if you’ve been creating, healing, or stepping out of your comfort zone.

“Keep going, don’t doubt yourself.”
Jays are persistent, smart, and vocal — a perfect reminder to push past fear.

Just me casually winning something as a toddler. Gunbower Aquatic Festival days.