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| Nana: 7/14/1924 - 1/29/2011 |
I miss my Nana.
My Nana left us for heaven on January 29, 2011. Her absence from this plane of existence hurts my heart… a lot.
I KNOW that Nana is at peace. I KNOW that she’s with my grandfather. I KNOW that I will see her again. BUT…I FEEL sad, like my heart has been broken. Not angry, not confused, just sad.
Sometimes I am overcome with emotion, just thinking about all of the things I’ll miss about my grandmother. Some of them I’ve missed longer that others – see, Nana was a victim of a slow descent: dementia/Alzheimer/old age.
My Nana was such a lively woman – unlike anyone I’ve ever met – or will meet again. I KNOW that I was privileged to know her, but I FEEL a bit lost. I KNOW that I’m lucky that she lived until I was 35. Most people don’t get to have their grandmothers that long. I FEEL like I would have liked her to have stayed a while longer.
Man, there’s so much to miss about her.
First, let’s start with the way she smelled. Oh my God. She smelled like love. She smelled like the sun. She smelled pretty. She always smelled good.
She gave the best hugs and kisses – with her whole body. She’d squeeze you tight, with kisses all over your face and neck, and then of course – the inevitable question: “Who’s baby?” The only right answer: “Nana’s baby!”
I miss the sound of my grandmother dancing. She didn’t just sway her hips from side to side…she popped her fingers – loudly – to the beat. She would call out, while dancing – “Yeeessss, yesss!!” – right to the record as if the crooner were standing there in her living room.
I even miss her purse. Sometimes, she’d ask me to hold it for her. It felt like there was a brick in there. I never saw the brick, but it had Kleenex, lotion, gum, puzzle books and other mysterious things she’s just pull out when the time was right.
I miss being on road trips with her. I’ve been from Seattle to Sacrament to Texas to Louisiana (& places in between) with her and my family. I miss the fact that she usually had more suitcases than anyone else. I miss her flowery robe she’d take on these trips and the plug in coffee pot she’d bring too.
I really miss the raspy yet lilting sound of her laugh.
I miss watching her work her word search puzzle books.
I miss her telling my daughter that she has Popsicles in the freezer just for her.
I miss lying in bed with her, watching her soap opera – Young and the Restless!
I miss her asking me to call her when I got in my house, after leaving hers. I miss seeing her in my rear view mirror standing on her porch waving goodbye.
I miss her feisty mouth. The woman could turn a phrase.
I miss playing Pokeno with her.
I miss her voice. I’ll miss the crinkle around her eyes when she smiled.
I miss seeing her drive her car, with her wrist folded over the “12 o’clock” position of the steering wheel, looking cool.
I miss Nana asking me if I want to ride with her to drop off an Avon package.
I miss her asking me and Ray if we want a “wine cooler”: Martini & Rossi Rhine w/7-up.
I miss my Nana from when I was 10 - hearing her offering to let me take a “hot, sougy” bath (it's pronounced: sow-gee. I don't know, it was her word, not mine). After that I could use her lotions and perfumes. I loved that so much – then I had the chance to smell just like her.
I just miss her style. We didn’t often agree on that, but memories from some our ill-fated shopping trips for Easter dresses will make me laugh for a long time to come.
I miss the makeup drawer in her bathroom – all these pink Fashion Fair containers – and some from Avon, thrown in for good measure.
I miss the way she said my name.
I miss my Nana.
