I had another dream about my Nan (my mom’s mom) last night. I dream about her often, even though she’s been gone for six and a half years.
This was her favorite time of year. Thanksgiving was her holiday… she was always in charge of the cooking. Everything from scratch, just as she was taught by her mom (my Granny). Noodles, potatoes, giblet gravy, scalloped corn, pumpkin pie, old fashion sugar cream pie...
My dream last night was of her funeral. We were trying to get there… and then we missed it. So then we tried to get to the cemetery… but kept hitting traffic. So I got out of the van and walked several blocks to get there… and still barely missed it. I remember thinking… I need to cry. I need to get there so I can cry.
I cried a lot when my Nan died. She was so angry with me… the cancer had metastasized everywhere in her body… in such a short period of time. At the time I felt very left out by my mom and two aunts… her daughters. Because I called Nan every day, and visited all of the time. I called my mom and aunts when it became very evident that Nan was falling ill… . And then when she is diagnosed… when she is dying… they are there… attending to her every need… and I disappeared. Nan would get angry with me for helping with anything. They would brag on her… they would laugh with her… they would spend that quality time with her that I wanted, too… and she just wanted me to paint her eyebrows on before they got there.
Now, when I look back…I smile. I am thankful. I am so glad my aunts and mom got to be her little girls one last week… that they were able to walk down memory lane. What a priceless moment when Nan told the story of my Aunt’s birth. I know my Nan loved me. I miss her so much. I think that’s why I dream of her often.
I can still smell her, I can still hear her voice. She laughed at my jokes… she was my closest confidant. I remember once when her coke got a hole in it while we were standing in the line at Kroger to check out. It dripped on the floor and to onlooker appeared as though she was peeing. Of course, I pointed and gasped, “Nan… you couldn’t hold it for five more minutes?“ I never let her live that down. We always laughed.
Once, she knew I was sad a year or two before she passed away. She made me a bed on her couch and asked me to stay all night in her little apartment. Just like when I was a little girl. Then she fried chicken, made gravy and biscuits all from scratch in her little kitchen. And, we sat and talked and laughed. And, I slept so good that night, smelling her sheets… I slept like a baby. I felt little and safe again.
I think I cried for her a lot for a few years after she was gone. Now I don’t cry… I may mist over… but I just try to hang on to every little detail. To recreate every smell…. Every laugh. I talk to my daughter, her namesake, about her as though she was here. I keep her with us.
I had another dream about my Nan (my mom’s mom) last night. I dream about her often, even though she’s been gone for six and a half years.
This was her favorite time of year. Thanksgiving was her holiday… she was always in charge of the cooking. Everything from scratch, just as she was taught by her mom (my Granny). Noodles, potatoes, giblet gravy, scalloped corn, pumpkin pie, old fashion sugar cream pie...
My dream last night was of her funeral. We were trying to get there… and then we missed it. So then we tried to get to the cemetery… but kept hitting traffic. So I got out of the van and walked several blocks to get there… and still barely missed it. I remember thinking… I need to cry. I need to get there so I can cry.
I cried a lot when my Nan died. She was so angry with me… the cancer had metastasized everywhere in her body… in such a short period of time. At the time I felt very left out by my mom and two aunts… her daughters. Because I called Nan every day, and visited all of the time. I called my mom and aunts when it became very evident that Nan was falling ill… . And then when she is diagnosed… when she is dying… they are there… attending to her every need… and I disappeared. Nan would get angry with me for helping with anything. They would brag on her… they would laugh with her… they would spend that quality time with her that I wanted, too… and she just wanted me to paint her eyebrows on before they got there.
Now, when I look back…I smile. I am thankful. I am so glad my aunts and mom got to be her little girls one last week… that they were able to walk down memory lane. What a priceless moment when Nan told the story of my Aunt’s birth. I know my Nan loved me. I miss her so much. I think that’s why I dream of her often.
I can still smell her, I can still hear her voice. She laughed at my jokes… she was my closest confidant. I remember once when her coke got a hole in it while we were standing in the line at Kroger to check out. It dripped on the floor and to onlooker appeared as though she was peeing. Of course, I pointed and gasped, “Nan… you couldn’t hold it for five more minutes?“ I never let her live that down. We always laughed.
Once, she knew I was sad a year or two before she passed away. She made me a bed on her couch and asked me to stay all night in her little apartment. Just like when I was a little girl. Then she fried chicken, made gravy and biscuits all from scratch in her little kitchen. And, we sat and talked and laughed. And, I slept so good that night, smelling her sheets… I slept like a baby. I felt little and safe again.
I think I cried for her a lot for a few years after she was gone. Now I don’t cry… I may mist over… but I just try to hang on to every little detail. To recreate every smell…. Every laugh. I talk to my daughter, her namesake, about her as though she was here. I keep her with us.