I wish Katie Hopkins could meet my Grandmother

I am so angry I cannot keep quiet about this woman anymore. The past week or so of her uneducated, ignorant, mean, unempathic and outright nasty tweets are just too much.

I could choose to write about her ill informed tweet liking depression with paper Primark bags in the rain. I mean, we have all experienced those damned bags but I’d rather have that problem every day for the rest of my life then a single more day of depression.

Or I can talk about her silly comments about obesity: ‘I put on 4 stone and lost it just to prove fat people are lazy. Wow, she’s just a great motivator for people with obesity to start a healthier lifestyle. She probably motivated, hm, no one?

The list of these types of opinions coming from Katie Hopkins. I guess it’s said that someone who claims who ‘dare to speak the truth’ gets so much attention. But she has gone too far for me this time. Her comments regarding dementia and euthanasia is too much. Is this woman Adolf Hitlers long lost child? I could probably rant on for a long time about the evils of Katie Hopkins but instead I am going share the story of my grandmother. I’ll try and not be too long winded. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll see it and change her opinion. I wouldn’t bank on it but I feel I have to atleast try…

My grandmother Ingrid is like most grandchildren think about their grandparents; a most remarkable woman. She was born in 1927 in the town of Gävle, Sweden. She married an engineer, Arne, who did secret work for the Swedish military during WW2. They loved travelling, I imgine them as a couple out of a 1930’s film when travelling was glamourus. The moved to Stockholm and I had my mother, Monica. In 1973 Arne died of a stroke of left my Gran alone with my mum.

In the late 70’s she formed a new relationship with the the man who came to be my granddad. He died in 1987 from cancer in the nose. In the early 80’s she survived breast cancer. When I was little we lived in the flat beneath her so I could visit every day. I used to ask if I could move in when my own family put me in a mood. Of course I only usually stayed for a night before I decided to forgive them and move back home.

In the 90’s my gran actually formed a relationship with a third man. He died a few years later of Parkinson’s Disease. How amazing is that; to loose not one, not two but THREE men who all died from unnatural causes and she still never lost hope or life. Never. She even had a mobile phone. She could receive texts but wasn’t great at answering back. She went on a course for pensioners to learn to surf the Internet. She loves looking a pictures on our smartphones.

In the early 2000’s we started noticing that things weren’t quite right. In the beginning it was little things like getting names mixed up or calling my mum several times a day, not remembering she had called 5 minutes earlier. By the time she was actually diagnosed she could not even remember that she was hungry or she’d would eat, forgetting that she eat half an hour ago. By that time she also phoned my mum at home or on her mobile or even at work and in the middle of the night. According to her phone bill she had rung my mum 791 times in 3 months. And that was just from her mobile, she also had a land line. She would ring in the middle of the night, not knowing what time it was and considering wondering off to find her own parents. Luckily she never actually got lost as she HS a wonderful elderly man as a neighbour who stopped her several times. At this time she lucid most of the time. We managed to get her some home care and cooked meals delivered. She point blank refused to move out of her flat. Is it at this stage Katie Hopkins think we should clobber her to death or give her a shot of leathal poison?

She came to stay with my mum and dad but when she did, she would come in my mum and dads bedroom and wake them up or my mum would wake up and catch my gran about to walk out the door. We were starting to suspect that she never sleept in her bed but just had naps in her living room chair.

It took several years to ‘get her into a home’. It was never about stuffing her away anywhere, in fact we all see her more often now because her home is closer. I know Katie Hopkins thinks that my mum and dad should have given up their jobs to care for my gran. Only one of them would not have been enough as she needed supervision 24h a day. But I guess they are just lazy people aren’t they?

My grandmother turned 88 a couple of months ago. Dementia aside she’s in perfectly good health. She is ‘bed blocking’ in a special home for people with dementia. They live no more then 5 people in one flat with their own rooms. She gets stimulation in form of activities, celebrations and socialisation with other people. But maybe THIS is the time to euthanase her?

She came to my wedding last summer, being hugely involved in choosing her outfit and getting her hair done. My grandma always was and always will be a lady. So what if she couldn’t remember what it was she was going to? So what if she can’t tell the different between me and my sister. So what if she doesn’t understand why we are not exchanging gifts at midsummer because she thinks is Christmas. She said: oh it’s midsummer, yes I thought it was a bit strange there is n snow. So what if she doesn’t know how old she is. She said; oh am I 88, well I’m doing pretty good then! And she is. She’s still my grandma who is a lady, who likes those a particular chocolates, have her very strong opinions, her sense of humour and her grumpy persona.

Who is Katie Hopkins to decide that my grandmother deserves to die because she has an illness? Who is Katie Hopkins to decide that my mum is lazy? Who is Katie Hopkins to decide that my grandma doesn’t know who she is? Statistically she hasn’t got long left. The dementia will eat her brain and make her a vegetable and then she’ll die. That stage usually doesn’t last long. So I don’t understand at what exact stage Katie Hopkins thinks it would be suitable to be put down.

This is my gran at last Christmas. She loves this picture even though she doesn’t remember the event.

This picture was took by my grandfather when she was only 17. She perfectly remembers it.