As of Wednesday at 2:20 pm, I have no grandmothers left on Earth. My Nana (pronounced "nah-knee"- my maternal grandmother) passed away. She lived a long, full life, but neither that knowledge nor my mental preparations for her death (she had cancer) or my excuses for not visiting her enough at the nursing home, etc., make her passing any easier.
I was sitting around and thought maybe the best way to honor Nana would be to write about her...so that's what I'm doing. Nana was a demanding mother to my Mom, but a giving sweetheart of a woman nonetheless. She was an extremely loving (as well as beloved) and devoted wife, mother, sister, aunt and grandmother.
Nana always kept an immaculately groomed mane of black curly hair, and I rarely caught a glimpse of her without her makeup in place. Any time she left the house or company was over, she was dressed to the nines. She liked to have nice things, and took a great deal of pride in the things she had, as well as herself and her family.
Due to some childhood ailments, I was spoiled rotten by Nana, who made me buffets (or "bus-says" as my baby sister later called them) to eat at my leisure in her living room as she watched "her stories." She also regularly took me to TCBY, a long-dead retail chain, to purchase me the more-than-occasional He-Man or G.I. Joe or She-Ra (the He-Men needed girlfriends...heh.) I remember many days listening to rich foreign men breaking up with ditsy blondes as I played contentedly with my Castle Greyskull action set, safely tucked between a cushy chair and a cushy couch as Nana relaxed in her chair, intent on said scoundrel and hussy.
This was, of course, after my brilliant toddler years, when (after watching far too many butt lube commercials between soap operas and "The Price Is Right") I would ask enthusiastically for "Pepper, H and H." Even then I was a victim of advertising.
Nana helped raise me. I lived most of my young childhood life at her house. This setting - an old white farmhouse, complete with red barn and surrounded by fields - was one of the things that I thank God for as an adult. I'm thankful that I had a place like that to run around in. I'm thankful that it was an idyllic picture of Southern life. It's one of the reasons I will always love South Carolina and the Pee Dee area, so matter how much I complain about artists not making enough money around here...
Nana's house was a huge one story house, with a seemingly huge attic that I never saw. Honestly, I was terrified to go up there; I was certain that some sort of ghoul or antebellum confederate ghost lurked up there, waiting to eat any unwitting children who took the time to climb on the bed in the guest bedroom, pull down the attic door, and climb up (this was well before everyone started expecting meowing Japanese children to jump at at them in attics.)
There was a little white tool shed in the front yard, a huge tree, a fake deer, and an old black metal bench. The front porch held a plethora of white rocking chairs and an old white swing, which I loved to sit in and watch the trees on the other side of the road.
The backyard was massive, leading to fields and forest (all of which I spent my youth exploring.) A tall, split cedar tree stood in the backyard, which I used to climb and play with all the time. A little white stone bench sat at its base. To this day, I still think of it first when I think of Nana's house. Then I think of the warm, comfortable den, with its painted green walls, and the bookshelves, cabinets and fireplace that were built into the right wall.
Just like the lady herself, Nana's house had a great deal of warmth, a unique style and character. I will never forget my time there, or the woman who made that time possible. A woman who loved me with a free and easy devotion, as every child should be adored by their grandparents. And it should be returned by those children as well.
I love you dearly, Nana, and we miss you terribly. I hope (and somewhere, deeply and firmly I know) that whatever you're doing right now, you know that. I hope there are lots of coral colored roses. I hope you're laughing that infectious, wonderful hooting laugh of yours for someone. Goodbye for now, Nana. I'll be seeing you later. ::blows a kiss::
- Shane
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Remembering Nana
Labels:
antebellum,
childhood,
death,
grandma,
grandmother,
grieving,
life,
Nana,
southern
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6 comments:
Shane, you have chosen the best way of all to honor your Nana, as the written word can hold such tremendous power. And I have paid my respects to her by reading this more than once. May the memory of such a vibrant woman live on forever, and I too know that you will see her again someday. Until then, may her rememberance give you comfort and strength.
I know it's an overused expression, but my thoughts are very much with you.
-Jesse
One more point of similarity between us - sounds like we had some of the same kinds of grandparent experiences growing up.
These times are never easy and are almost always bittersweet, but it seems like you've managed to embrace the sweet and ignore most of the bitter for now.
Well written, well felt, well said, well done.
Take care, my friend.
I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your grandmother. Stay strong and surround yourself with those you love the most. You and your family are in my prayers.
Janet
Dear Shane,
How easily I can imagine time at your Nana's house with her just from reading her blog.
I too lost my father recently. The man who I called my hero and often blamed for my insanity. much of my insanity I attribute to him still but a lack of normalcy is the best part of us all:)
Love be with you.
Rayn:)
This is so much like my memories of my Mema that it's actually left me in tears. I don't really know what to say other than, "I get it." Were I nearby, I would just sit with you quietly. I'm sending you a big, long, warm, heartfelt hug. Please know that I'm keeping you in my thoughts.
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