My Nana passed away four years ago.
Her leaving us was sudden and traumatic.
All loss probably is that way I suppose.
My Nana left a really big hole in my family.
Mostly because she took up a lot of emotional stress and space,
which I don’t think heavenly Nana minds me saying.
I imagine her in heaven nodding in peaceful, solemn agreement
with the kind of understanding and clarity that a person can only have in heaven.
All I can vividly remember about my Nana is the REALLY, REALLY GOOD.
It’s as if the not-so good is slowly leaking out of my memory
and all my mind knows to hold onto is the truly wonderful of her.
Her immense love and kindness for others...especially her family,
the turquoise eyeliner that she would pencil in around her eyes,
how she would walk across the street from her house to Mckay’s Market in the rain
just so that she could get me the best chicken strip at the deli for lunch,
how she would hold my hand in public no matter how old I became,
the pride in her voice when she would introduce me to a random bystander...
I certainly don’t want to be remembered for a lot of who I end up being in my day-to-day life.
But that pulsing, pure 30% that once in awhile pushes past the crap of everything else inside of me.
That’s the stuff I want to be remembered for.