Sunday, January 22, 2017

Just the Best Nana Ever

A ninety-two year old Nana in declining health who has suffered years of dementia is supposed to leave this world. Her passing wasn't a shock and in large part was cause for joy. But, you see, she was just the best Nana ever.

When I was a little girl, my sister and I took a trip with my grandparents to see some of my Grandad's land. I don't remember where this land was located but he seemed proud of it and we had a day wandering through the woods with our Nana. I remember laughing until my sides hurt at her little jokes. She was so silly in the simplest ways, always finding fun and always willing to laugh at herself.

On our trek through Grandad's woods we found a pile of bones which resulted in three very different reactions. My older sister thought they were cool. I was a bit disgusted. Nana was sad. She wondered out loud what type of animal had left this lifeless pile and if he was missed. She voiced questions about the animal's family, "Were his wife and children waiting for his return? Did he suffer?" She took a stick, brushed away the leaves and drew a circle of protection in the dirt around the bones. This was done with seriousness of heart, all the while laughing at herself and her silliness. Forever the kindergarten teacher, Nana had the heart of a child. She was always singing, telling stories, drawing imaginary protective barriers to protect piles of deteriorated animal remains.

Her last hours on earth were spent reminding her who she was and all she meant to all of us. At times Nana would seem agitated and we would try to hear her whispers, give her more or less cover, put lotion on muscles that may or may not ache. During one of these moments she became very animated and was struggling to communicate. My Aunt Bud started quoting one of her favorite children's books "Are you My Mother?" Nana instantly calmed, settled and started mouthing the words as her youngest child recited them from memory.

At the end of a lengthy period of lucidity Nana looked past me, over my shoulder, and focused at the blank wall behind me. She raised her hand, pointed and her very blue eyes held a look of amazement.

I asked her, "What do you see, Nana?"
She formed the word friends.
"Are they beautiful?"
"Oh yeah" she whispered.
"Are they singing?"
"Singing"
"Do they sing better than I do?"
"Oh yeah."
I replied, "I'm ok with that."

As we watched my Nana struggle to live and then when we celebrated her passed life, one thing was very clear. My Nana made an art form out of loving those close to her. Each of her thirteen grandchildren felt like we were the favorite. At the end of every visit, she just couldn't seem to say goodbye. It was as if you were trying to rip away a part of herself. She didn't have to try and make those in her life FEEL loved. She genuinely, truly, whole heartedly, loved you. It flowed through her and permeated her being as she sang, danced, threatened to lock you in the closet so she could keep you, and as she literally chased you down as you tried to drive away.

In his homily at Nana's funeral Andy provided the greatest comfort:

"Nana no longer has faith. It may unsettle you to hear this: Nana is now faithless. She no longer needs faith. She has sight. She has left the shadow lands and has been ushered into the presence of the royal city. She is now experiencing in fullness everything she had believed while on earth."

I'll never forget his words on Nana's faithlessness. While she no longer needs faith or hope, she will always and forever love.



My Nana

Alicia, Carin, Dave and Kimmy (photobombed by a couple of hooligans)

Most of Nana's Grandfavorites (in birth order...*sigh*)

Some of Nana's Greatfavorites...imagine the crazy!