Friday, March 11, 2016

Nana

Nana was my father's mother. She lived for 101 years and breathed her last yesterday. 

My best memories of her are from my childhood. We would visit every summer, at the height of the heat. The house had no air conditioning, only a few fans that tried their best to provide a little breeze. The days were lazy for us, fishing in the creek, climbing into the treehouse, swinging on the front porch, listening to the adults tell stories after dinner while playing poker. She was always busy, shelling beans, cooking, taking care of the chickens and the garden. She was very frugal and lived very simply. I think some of that frugalness made its way to me. At least I would like to think so.

Last night, after receiving the news, I wandered into my bedroom, where I have a collage of pictures of her and my grandfather and my dad. There is one where my grandparents are on the verge of a kiss. As I lingered over that picture, tears welled up, for I could picture Papa, greeting her in Heaven, just that way. He was a romantic, she was more serious and down-to-earth. They loved to go square dancing. I loved seeing her all decked out in the fancy dresses and him looking dapper in his nice suit. In my mind, I can see them on the dance floor, together again. I wish with all my heart that I could join my family to say good-bye, but that does not seem to be in the cards for me. This little post is my way of saying how much I loved her, admired her, and will miss her.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord.


Nana and my father, probably 1945.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so sorry for your loss, Jenny. I know how special she was to you. What a long and rich life she had! I love the photo of her and your grandpa - so sweet!

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