"Water flows, and trees still bend..."
I'm sad today. My Nana passed away this morning.
I am not surprised by this; she's been really, really sick for a long time, and our family actually thought she wouldn't live to see Christmas of 2006. Since the first time I went to Boston in September 2006, every time I said goodbye to her on my trips back was "the last time" - it happened four times. It never got easier, because I never knew if or when I'd get a phone call saying she'd died. I'm sad, too, that I didn't make it back to see her one last time - I'm going back to Edmonton in a couple of weeks for a visit. I'm so thankful for the time we got to have with her beyond what was expected, but I guess that now was her time. She was ready. She's been ready for a long time.
I didn't really understand until recently how strong she was. I always kind of thought of her as being more passive; she came from the generation where that was expected of her. However, seeing how long and how hard she fought her sickness, and learning that she'd done it before, around the time when I was born, really made me see her in a different way these past few months.
I'm always going to remember her Sunday dinners with Yorkshire pudding and roast beef - I learned how to make gravy from her. (And my gravy is awesome.) I'll remember how, later on, she would get confused during conversations and say something inadvertently hilarious every time. I'll remember being little and sitting with my brother in her orange-and-green living room and eating pizza or soup or KD on her TV tables and watching "Casper the Friendly Ghost" - which was such an old video tape that it skipped! - or "Mickey and the Beanstalk" - which I'd always have to run out of the room for when the beanstalk started growing because it scared me. I'll remember her delicious Christmas baking, and the fact that I've never in my life eaten shortbread that is as good as hers. I'll remember her playing solitaire until she couldn't deal the cards anymore, and learning cribbage from her and my mom - "Fifteen two, fifteen four and there ain't no more!" I'll remember her painting my nails garish red and pink colours when I was little, and letting me play around in her jewelry box and wear all her beautiful jewels. I'll remember the slippers she wore for as long as I could remember. I'll remember her histrionic gasp that she made whenever anything even slightly startling happened. I'll remember watching the Food Network with her before my piano lessons during high school, and listening to her comment on everything the chefs were doing.
I'm sure I'll remember more things about her. I'm kind of in a remembering mood. I don't feel like I'm doing her justice right now... but I don't think I really can. This is the internet, after all. I don't think Nana really understands what the internet is... :)
Anyways. I'm sad I won't ever get to see my Nana again, but I'm so, so glad that she's not in pain any more. I hope that wherever she is, she's safe and happy and healthy, and she knows that I love her.
Goodbye, Nana.
I am not surprised by this; she's been really, really sick for a long time, and our family actually thought she wouldn't live to see Christmas of 2006. Since the first time I went to Boston in September 2006, every time I said goodbye to her on my trips back was "the last time" - it happened four times. It never got easier, because I never knew if or when I'd get a phone call saying she'd died. I'm sad, too, that I didn't make it back to see her one last time - I'm going back to Edmonton in a couple of weeks for a visit. I'm so thankful for the time we got to have with her beyond what was expected, but I guess that now was her time. She was ready. She's been ready for a long time.
I didn't really understand until recently how strong she was. I always kind of thought of her as being more passive; she came from the generation where that was expected of her. However, seeing how long and how hard she fought her sickness, and learning that she'd done it before, around the time when I was born, really made me see her in a different way these past few months.
I'm always going to remember her Sunday dinners with Yorkshire pudding and roast beef - I learned how to make gravy from her. (And my gravy is awesome.) I'll remember how, later on, she would get confused during conversations and say something inadvertently hilarious every time. I'll remember being little and sitting with my brother in her orange-and-green living room and eating pizza or soup or KD on her TV tables and watching "Casper the Friendly Ghost" - which was such an old video tape that it skipped! - or "Mickey and the Beanstalk" - which I'd always have to run out of the room for when the beanstalk started growing because it scared me. I'll remember her delicious Christmas baking, and the fact that I've never in my life eaten shortbread that is as good as hers. I'll remember her playing solitaire until she couldn't deal the cards anymore, and learning cribbage from her and my mom - "Fifteen two, fifteen four and there ain't no more!" I'll remember her painting my nails garish red and pink colours when I was little, and letting me play around in her jewelry box and wear all her beautiful jewels. I'll remember the slippers she wore for as long as I could remember. I'll remember her histrionic gasp that she made whenever anything even slightly startling happened. I'll remember watching the Food Network with her before my piano lessons during high school, and listening to her comment on everything the chefs were doing.
I'm sure I'll remember more things about her. I'm kind of in a remembering mood. I don't feel like I'm doing her justice right now... but I don't think I really can. This is the internet, after all. I don't think Nana really understands what the internet is... :)
Anyways. I'm sad I won't ever get to see my Nana again, but I'm so, so glad that she's not in pain any more. I hope that wherever she is, she's safe and happy and healthy, and she knows that I love her.
Goodbye, Nana.