Ida Flower
30 September 1920 - 10 December 2007
Dearest Ida
I'm writing a final letter to you, which I thought would be appropriate, as you were my greatest correspondent and probably got me on the road to writing, now that I think of it! It was you, in fact, who introduced me to words, not only through your constant letters to me, but also through the first book that I can remember be given to me as a gift at age 5. I don't remember much about it, except that it was a big red book and I cried floods of tears in your arms after I lost it!
Throughout my young life your home, with Granddad, always seemed like a sanctuary to me, a place of delicious Sunday dinners and playing with matchboxes on the lounge carpet; a place to spend holidays, when Shaun and Brandon would send me to ask you for money so tat we could play video games along the beachfront; a home for Shaun and I when Mom and Dad were so far away. And how can I ever forget, or express my gratitude deeply enough, for straightening my teeth and turning me into the confident and handsome devil that I have become!
Even when I started my first job, it was from your home that I left for work each morning and returned in the evenings to practice playing the electric piano so that you could boast to your friends how accomplished I was! And it was in your home that I started my married life. You left red roses on your bed for us, an unexpectedly romantic touch that surprised and embarrassed me - my grandmother knew that I was about to become as man in her bed!
But that's who you are - direct and unabashed, traits that I have come to develop in myself and appreciate in others. There were times when you were a handful, let's not kid ourselves, when the rest of us would throw up our hands in despair because you refused to be told what to do. You demonstrated that age and white hair hadn't diminished the fiery temperament that characterized your life and demanded respect from all around you.
I am sad that you have left us and there is a strange void in my life. I will miss you. I will miss just knowing that you are there. I will particularly miss your letters, in your distinctive handwriting and formal style, encouraging me and telling me how great I am and how proud you are of me. But, I am also at peace in the knowledge that this is what you wanted, to be with your beloved Stan. Just as he is a constant in my thoughts, so you will be too, because for me the two of you are the ideal love story and how many people are fortunate enough to be able to say that about their grandparents?
And so I bid you farewell, my dearest Ida, and thank you for the unwavering love you gave us who loved you. Thank you for years of care and concern that saw us through times of hardship. Thank you for my mother who inherited your strength of character and determination that she has passed on to us, your grandchildren, and has enabled her to be the magnificent mother she is. Thank you, Ida, for being my grandmother.
Your grandson,
Dion
Dion Marc Delport
13 December 2007