I was not lucky enough to have a Nana who lived in the same city as I did, but I was fortunate, that she was close enough to travel by car, and I was able to visit her by myself for a week (sometimes 2 weeks) every summer. Those times for me were magical summers of dreams come true. I could escape my life every summer and be treated like a princess. I was the lucky one, for I had a "True Nana".
So every summer, I would pack my flowered suitcase, stuffed animals, big fluffy blankets and pillows, and run not walk to the Vista Cruiser, jump in and settle in for the 2 hour drive to Nana’s house. Every year I was so excited, I couldn't wait, just what adventures would Nana have in store for me this year? What would we play? What would we do? How many times would we walk to the grocery store? What would "The Love Boat" or "Fantasy Island" be about this week? What night would we order Pasquales Pizza? And would we be able to wait for it to cool before we burned the roof of our mouths on the delicious melted cheese? Would she have frycakes from Hemstraughts? Would I be able to stay quiet every day from 3-4 while Nana watched her favorite soap that she so dearly called "General Hoppy-Hoop"? And just HOW MANY BLUE POPSICLES would she have waiting for me in the icebox? Would there be enough for us to have one every night? What puzzle would she have started for us? What card game would she teach me? And then let me win every hand? (For Tina...and you know what UNO game I am talking about...this is where that poor sportsmanship was created...I'm blaming my Nana for this one ...I've yet to play cards with anyone since who won't let me win LOL)
Anyone who has a "true" Nana knows, just how very special she is able to make you feel...as if you are the only person in the world that truly matters. Nana's have a special way of making the world slow down, just enough for you to catch up and enjoy every special moment (Unless Nana is in a hurry...stay tuned for more about that one later!!) We would lazily crawl around on the grass looking for 4 leaf clovers, she truly was the master at this game, because she found so many, and to this day I can honestly say I look, but I have never myself found, a four leaf clover!!!! We would have tea for the Queen and her Princess every morning, and I was even able to convince her to let me have coffee instead of tea, which I would then dip my toast (or frycake) into, and it tasted better than any breakfast I have ever had. (To this day when I do this, I lovingly think of her) ... My Nana spoiled me from the minute I arrived, until the minute I left, and then cried because I was leaving...anyone else after 2 whole weeks of spoiling would probably drop-kick you out the door, say adios and good riddance and look forward to a nice long nap...no ma'am...not my Nana, there she would stand, tears in her eyes, a kleenex in her hand, waving good-bye until she could no longer see the car (probably longer if I knew my Nana!) And then, she would wait rather nervously until I called to say "We are home safe Nana, thank you so much for the wonderful time, I love you and cannot wait until next year." And she would always say"I had such a nice time with you, and I miss you like crazy already, but I look forward to not getting kicked all night by those spider legs of yours." Nana always said I had the longest legs she had ever seen, and they were certainly unruly while I was sleeping...I always felt bad for kicking her in my sleep, and would offer to sleep on the couch, but she would not hear of such a thing...and she knew I was too scared to sleep out there alone anyways, another thing wonderful about a "True" Nana. Besides, she always said, you are so skinny you can't do that much damage to this old girl. I loved her so much...and I miss her to this day.
I know you will all find this hard to believe, but I was a quiet and shy young girl. (Keep the laughter to a minimum please) I spoke when I was spoken to, I answered your questions, but it took a whole lot for me to be able to think of anything to really say that I thought would be interesting to anyone, so I would stay quiet. (For years this labeled me as "Stuck-Up" but I truly was paralyzed with no words sometimes (and Words do hurt, despite the sticks and stones reference, sometimes they hurt very much) I don't know who I became those weeks at Nana's, but I could talk and talk and talk about nothing, and she would pull the rockers out on her upstairs front porch (which to me was the way coolest thing ever, to sit on the second story front porch) and watch the world go by, and yes, you guessed it, there we would sit, and rock, eating Blue Popsicles and chattering away like the best of friends that we were. Blue Popsicles were rare...I had never seen a blue popsicle in Rochester, the popsicles we always had were Red, Orange or Purple, never ever Blue. (Years later, I would find them in the freezer at 7-11 and wonder, had they been here all along?) They were my special slice of Heaven, I looked forward to them all year long. We would talk for hours, Nana had so many special stories, and she was very funny, she could make me laugh until tears ran down my face. I still can laugh out loud when I remember a joke she told, and I wish there were someone nearby to share it with who would find it as funny as I still do. I remember always wondering why my Nana was not remarried (Her and my Grandfather had divorced in a time when it was not common to do so) But here was this wonderful, giving and funny woman, and she never remarried, it always made me so sad. She always said her Children and Grandchildren and God were enough for her, (and I must tell you, she lost my Aunt Betty at age 7, and it still amazed me that she would still talk to this God who I was still mad at for taking her beautiful baby girl) and she made my life so special all the time, that I really believe we were enough for her. On that front porch, sitting on those rockers, eating blue popsicles, I was a true chatterbox...sometimes I even shocked myself...but you know what, I didn't shock Nana, for she knew, that in order to get someone to talk, to really open up, you had to first make sure they knew how much they were loved, and you then had to make sure that they were truly comfortable and felt at home. I trusted my Grama, more than anyone I trusted in my entire life, she never "pretended" to listen or be interested, she truly did listen, and she Was interested.
The summer of my first broken heart, there she was, blue popsicle in hand, telling me the story of her first broken heart. Those summers I really found out a lot about her, the girl she was, the woman she was, the mother she was, I already knew all about the Grama she was, and I just remember being thankful that for whatever reason, she was My Grama, and no matter what was going on in my life, she was there. I could go on and on with story after story, but I think you get the general idea of just how important and influential she was in my life.
As promised up above, there is a funny story about Nana being in a hurry (not as funny as my sisters experience with her "Nana Margie" in a hurry of course, but that story is for her to tell, not me) To this day, I will not walk on metal street grates, for the fear I have of them. I told you how long and skinny my legs were...Well, One day, Nana and I were walking down the street to the grocery store, and we were in a hurry...I kept goofing around, and she kept telling me to "hurry along" ...one of the sewer grates, must have been pried open at some point for someone to retrieve something they had lost...because as soon as I walked over it, (instead of around it like I was told to do), down I went, and got my whole leg stuck in that grate...I was so scared that no sound came out when I yelled...and there went Nana, around the corner, without me...it took her a few seconds to realize she was walking alone...finally, after what felt like forever, there she came, backtracking around the corner to see what kind of dilly dallying I was doing...I can still see her face and then she yelped, there I was, stuck in the grate, and I couldn't get out...well, being typical "true" Nana, it took her a minute to get me out, because for one she couldn't stop laughing at how in the world I got in there in the first place, and two, we were in a hurry after all so between the laughing she had to scold me for "such nonsense" and for years we laughed as we reminisced about that one! "The Sewer incident."
Many years later, I found out that my Nana also was a poet and a writer, and I was proud to find yet another connection in myself of this amazing woman. And now, many years later, I find myself telling everyone they are in my prayers, as I heard my Nana say to so many people all of my life, and I am so proud, to be so much like this wonderful and amazing woman, who taught me to live with grace and dignity, and to be selfless, instead of selfish. I always feel so sorry for my Children and my Nieces and Nephews, having lost their Nana’s so early, (Gino and Salvatore were not even born until after they both had passed) that they will never share that special bond that is created with "Grama's" for I know how truly special mine was to me, and I cannot imagine my life without her in it.
I still have Blue Popsicles when I find them every now and again, and I think of Grama Margie, but I have to say, they do not taste as good as they did when I had them with her, so all of those years, I thought the magic was the blue popsicles, but as it turns out, truly, the magic, was Grama.
Much Love Grama,
Lori xoxo
No comments:
Post a Comment