Remembering My Nana

Almost two weeks ago, my maternal grandmother, who we called "Nana," passed away. I feel blessed that I had a chance to see her before she went, and return to Oklahoma to see her laid to rest.

Snowglobe of T-Town.

She was from a very small town about an hour from Tulsa. I keep trying to think of how I can eulogize her properly. My mother did a great job, here.

Under a brilliant blue sky, we met to eat, talk and remember her. Here are some things that I remember:

Nana believed that every person, but especially children, needed spare time and a quiet place to think. Good shoes and a warm coat were also important. For at least some of her childhood, she didn't have any of those luxuries. 

Constant Comment tea with lemon is delicious, but coke from a glass bottle is a special treat. 

The back of your work is as important as the front. You know what's there, even if no one else does. (Embroidery and quilting ran in the family. My knitting is a modern affectation.)

She would get up at 4 a.m. to bake fresh pies for Thanksgiving dinner, because everyone loves freshly-baked pie.

Always respect all people, no matter what. 

Yellow was her favorite color. I was thinking of her as I spun this:

She was gone before I plied it. 

In fact, she loved bright colors, wherever they appeared. A cardinal was a thing of joy. A daffodil, a blessing.

I love you, Nana. I miss you.