Bernie's Choice
“Could you pass me a cupcake?”
“No, not that one,” she replied. “One of those ones.” Pointing to the cakes at the furthest corner of the table from us all.
As my boyfriend leant over the party spread to get one for her, she took the opportunity to goose him good and proper.
“NANNY!” I proclaimed in utter horror.
This was a new boyfriend. We’d only been together a few weeks at this point and thought an intimate family gathering would be a nice opportunity for him to meet some of my family. And it was turning out to be more intimate than I expected.
Whilst telling her off for being such a rotter, she then proceeded to grab one of my boobs, jiggle it with the hand that still worked after her stroke whilst looking me straight in the eye.
No one was going to tell this lady what to do.
“Ah, I see where you get your personality from now,” added Matt – the previously aforementioned goosed-by-grandma boyfriend. Or should I say John Lennon, as that’s what she decided to call him.
He looks nothing like John Lennon.
The Ashcroft cheekiness had indeed skipped a generation.
That’s just a tiny snapshot of my grandma, Bernadette Ashcroft. She wasn’t a businesswoman. She wasn’t someone who dedicated her life to change the world. She was my grandma. She didn’t even have to do that much during her life to inspire me.
Bernie, as we all called her, was from Waterford in the Republic of Ireland and was famous for being the all Ireland champion dancer of her time. She moved to Liverpool with her family and it was here she met my Grandpa who fell for her straight away when he saw her at Church one morning. However, the girl that had just stolen his heart, was the very same lady whose banns were being called at the church – engaged and soon to be married, Grandpa had to move quickly! After stalking her for a bit, he took her out on a couple of dates and eventually she broke it off with the other chap and married my grandpa instead.
She was always the life and soul of the party – cheeks rosy red from a glass of baileys or a gin & tonic, wagging her finger at people whilst telling them off, until one day, she didn’t want to leave the house any more.
I don’t remember what happened or why it happened, I was too young, but I do remember a noticeable change from the lady I used bake cakes with and go on caravanning holidays with as a child to someone who just really looked quite scared all of the time. The fear in her bright blue eyes used to pierce through me, even from a young age.
This went on for years and I guess we all just got used to it.
Over time, she began perking up again. I remember as she started taking little walks with my Grandpa in their beautiful and picturesque tree-lined suburb. Just as she seemed to be getting back to her old self, she suffered a huge stroke – it took the right side of her body away from her. She was unable to move by herself any more and it seemed like months, maybe even years before I was able to understand her when she spoke to me. I used to see her getting frustrated and I used to feel incredibly guilty – I desperately wanted to connect with her. I was able to sense how desperately isolated and scared she felt.
This is how she lived her life for over 25 years. I think that I’m the only grandchild old enough to remember how she was before she got sick. Sometimes her old, cheeky self would peek through when we visited and she’d give us some stick or she’d flirt with doctors, random old men in the nursing home and my boyfriends too; other times she’d be terribly depressed, barely uttering a word. Sometimes, she could be very, very cruel.
Being of the god-fearing generation, she was terrified of dying. Her health deteriorated on numerous occasions and I’ve lost count of the times we nearly lost her. Just when we’d give up hope ourselves, she’d bounce back – choosing to accept a long life of suffering stuck in a house, hospital or day-centre instead of just letting go.
For me, seeing how cruel life can be, first imprisoning a shiny soul by mental illness and then later physical illness, is what inspires me to do what I am doing today. Seeing this up close and personal whilst seeing parallels with my own life gave me the push to honour the whispers of my soul.
Since her passing, I’ve been hyper-aware that many people around me are just doing the movements – the degree, the office job, the mortgage, the debt – sticking in a job they despise to buy a house they believe they should have whilst waiting for one day in the future to enjoy it all.
All my life I felt that this was bollocks anyway. I never fitted in. But my own issues with self-worth meant I embarked on society’s path myself at first, but the more I did what I was ‘supposed to’ the more depressed I felt. The further away I was from my true self, the more my bright spirit would fade and pull me through the black clouds of depression to let me know that this wasn’t the life for me. It took me many years to understand that depression was a warning that I wasn’t living a life true to who I was.
I had already hopped out of ‘the matrix’ by setting up my first business as a photographer and was making a good go of doing it my way, embracing my quirky style and rebellious nature but the programming I had deep inside meant that every time I pushed one way, I fell back down again. Anxiety, self doubt, self-sabotage and even many days where I flirted with the black dog himself wondering whether or not I’d fall back into the hole again.
It took my grandma passing away to finally step up and own who I was and what I wanted to do with my life – not just with the photography business but to release the things that kept holding me back. To let go of the lack of self-esteem and learn to love myself; to shake off depression by getting to know who I am and what I really want out of life and ditch the anxiety and realise that no one else’s opinion of me and how I choose to live my life matter – to anyone at all!
This journey of discovery lead to me to the work I am doing today. We can all put on a mask to others, seem confident and happy but inside we’re lost, confused and functioning at a low level of despair. I wanted to use what I’ve learnt to help other people who might be going through the same things.
It hasn’t been easy. It still isn’t easy. But knowing that now, every time I feel the black clouds brewing above my head, I have to stop and listen. Life is too short. Things can happen to take the freedom we have away from us at any time. Don’t wait for the opportunities to be taken away from you or someone you love to give you that push.
Life is now. Grab it by the balls x