My Nana
That's my dad's mother . . . she passed away 13 years ago today. Every year I remember it like I would remember any birthday, anniversary or holiday. I'm not sure why. I don't even remember the exact date of her birthday (sometime in January, I know, because garnet was her birthstone), but I'll always remember the day she died. I think it might be because she was the first of my grandparents to pass away. I was working in a pizza place at the time, and I think when I found out I just got drunk. That's the standard response to hearing someone died, right? Well, maybe not, but it is what it is. It wasn't a total surprise; she'd been diagnosed with cancer about 9 months earlier so March 9, 1992 was really the end of her suffering.
I didn't get to spend much time with any of my grandparents growing up because I've lived in California since I was 2 and they lived in Massachusetts. But I went back about every 3 years or so and I always loved staying at either of my grandparents' houses. I have vivid memories of being back there in the summer when it feels hot as hell and is not unlike being in a steam bath. Nana used to give me Fudgsicles like they were going out of style.
I remember I used to sit out on the sun porch and watch MTV when it was free. 1983 -- I remember watching videos by The Police and that one Electric Avenue video by Eddie Grant. I remember wishing I lived in a two story house with a basement and an attic like both sets of grandparents did. I remember Nana had this cookie jar that my Aunt Angela made -- a giant cupcake where the "frosted" part was the lid and the cherry on top was the handle.
When I went back in 1986, they had moved to a place called Pinehurst Village, I think, in Plymouth (where the rock is) . . . some retirement community. Not as cool as the house in Milton, but I still liked being with my grandparents. It was my first trip, at age 14, by myself. They would take me to this manmade lake a lot (Spectacle Pond?), and I would swim out to a platform that was there and dive into the water and swim under the platform all day. I remember seeing crawfish in the water and not really being freaked out by it -- though I would be now. I remember in the mornings Nana would put these blueberry muffin things in her toaster oven and heat them up for us to eat on the patio. Yum! I remember watching Sarah Ferguson marry Prince Andrew back in the back room where they kept their little TV -- when a "big" TV was maybe 27 inches (and theirs was maybe 19)! I remember burning my fingers on their electric stove when I, like an idiot, touched my index and middle fingers to one of the burners to see how hot it was -- then leaving their home to walk in circles around the block because it hurt so much (man, I haven't thought about that in a LONG time)! I remember getting back on the plane in Boston at the end of my visit and getting stuck in Salt Lake City because the first flight left late and I missed my connecting flight. Talk about trauma!
That was the last time I saw my Nana. The next time I came back was for her funeral, six years later. It was the first time I remembered meeting my Uncle Gerard, my godfather, who lives in Texas. It was the first time I'd seen my father and all his siblings together and what that dynamic was like. It was also the first time I ever saw my father cry. It was the first time I'd been to the funeral of a relative. I remember it was freezing, about 14 degrees before the wind chill factor, the day of her funeral. We went to the church for the services, then to the cemetery, then to some social club or similar place where, like good Irish people, everyone proceeded to eat and get stinking drunk. Even me, at 20 1/2 years old . . . they let me slide.
It was a tough week, and I still feel a little sad every time this day comes, but now I'm able to look back and think of the few but fond memories I have of my Nana and smile. :o)
I didn't get to spend much time with any of my grandparents growing up because I've lived in California since I was 2 and they lived in Massachusetts. But I went back about every 3 years or so and I always loved staying at either of my grandparents' houses. I have vivid memories of being back there in the summer when it feels hot as hell and is not unlike being in a steam bath. Nana used to give me Fudgsicles like they were going out of style.
I remember I used to sit out on the sun porch and watch MTV when it was free. 1983 -- I remember watching videos by The Police and that one Electric Avenue video by Eddie Grant. I remember wishing I lived in a two story house with a basement and an attic like both sets of grandparents did. I remember Nana had this cookie jar that my Aunt Angela made -- a giant cupcake where the "frosted" part was the lid and the cherry on top was the handle.
When I went back in 1986, they had moved to a place called Pinehurst Village, I think, in Plymouth (where the rock is) . . . some retirement community. Not as cool as the house in Milton, but I still liked being with my grandparents. It was my first trip, at age 14, by myself. They would take me to this manmade lake a lot (Spectacle Pond?), and I would swim out to a platform that was there and dive into the water and swim under the platform all day. I remember seeing crawfish in the water and not really being freaked out by it -- though I would be now. I remember in the mornings Nana would put these blueberry muffin things in her toaster oven and heat them up for us to eat on the patio. Yum! I remember watching Sarah Ferguson marry Prince Andrew back in the back room where they kept their little TV -- when a "big" TV was maybe 27 inches (and theirs was maybe 19)! I remember burning my fingers on their electric stove when I, like an idiot, touched my index and middle fingers to one of the burners to see how hot it was -- then leaving their home to walk in circles around the block because it hurt so much (man, I haven't thought about that in a LONG time)! I remember getting back on the plane in Boston at the end of my visit and getting stuck in Salt Lake City because the first flight left late and I missed my connecting flight. Talk about trauma!
That was the last time I saw my Nana. The next time I came back was for her funeral, six years later. It was the first time I remembered meeting my Uncle Gerard, my godfather, who lives in Texas. It was the first time I'd seen my father and all his siblings together and what that dynamic was like. It was also the first time I ever saw my father cry. It was the first time I'd been to the funeral of a relative. I remember it was freezing, about 14 degrees before the wind chill factor, the day of her funeral. We went to the church for the services, then to the cemetery, then to some social club or similar place where, like good Irish people, everyone proceeded to eat and get stinking drunk. Even me, at 20 1/2 years old . . . they let me slide.
It was a tough week, and I still feel a little sad every time this day comes, but now I'm able to look back and think of the few but fond memories I have of my Nana and smile. :o)
posted by PlatinumGirl at 11:12 AM
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