The last 2 weeks have left an empty place in my heart. I lost my Nana. Something I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with for many more years to come. It came way too quick.
I cant even begin to describe her to anyone. She was amazing. I remember her coming to the school when I was little and having lunch with me. Everyone always loved her (and her British accent!). I remember after Grandad retired they moved to AZ and in the summer summer they would park their motor home in our front yard. I remember vivintly, one day after school the familiar motor home was there after along winter without her. I ran to the motor home and Grandad met me with the door wide open and said, “She’s in the house!!” I couldn’t wait to see her.
She was absolutely terrifying behind the wheel of a vehicle. Terrifying. But I’d still go wherever she wanted me to go with her.
She loved having family all together for any occasion. Even if we didn’t want to do anything. She made us and we always ended up enjoying it.
She loved keeping up on technology. She loved her iPhone and her Alexa. She was proficient on Facebook, even when we didn’t always “like” her non-filtered comments. (And if it no longer showed up on her news feed, it meant it was gone, forever)
She loved my girls. She loved them with all of her heart. She would constantly call me and want to take them for the day, or offer to help in some way. When it was their birthday, she would pick them up and take them shopping. If it was Halloween, she wanted new pictures of them and to shower them with coloring books and crayons and dollar store toys.
She would pick Kinsleigh up from school quite a bit, since it was only a block away. She always felt honored to be on her “pick-up list.” She would even remind me she was on it so she could get her (even though I’m the one who put her on it every year).
If I was ever sick, she would offer to bring me soup. And she did it, often. Sometimes, if she was worried she would catch it, she’d leave it on my front door. She’d always give it to me in a glass bowl and ask for it back, knowing I was going to keep it. Then when I would finally offer to give it back she’d let me have it. I have a cabinet full of her dishes, still.
She loved giving me jars of Mincemeat. I love mincemeat but didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’ve never made anything with the jars. I just like getting them from her. I made a huge batch of mincemeat bars last week and ate them all by myself because my family thinks meat and apples don’t mix (they don’t know a good thing!). I’m sad I never got to have her teach me how to make it.
(I know… she would be so ashamed!)
She would buy my girls, it seemed like each yet, a glass tea set. She always said they can’t play with them until they’re older. That wouldn’t last long. I still have boxes of tea sets the girls like to play with that I’m sure they’ll cherish their whole lives.
When I would leave her house, she’d always follow me to the door to give me a kiss goodbye. That seems to be the memory I keep picturing in my mind of her. Her walking up to the door with a huge smile on her face and her hand stretched out. Then, of course, she’d stand outside when I drove away until I was completely out of site.
She hated my tattoos. She knew how much I loved them though. When I got my sleeve done, she came to my office to see it. I remember her face when I pulled my shirt sleeve up and she said, “OH, it’s your whole bloody arm!!” Then she started sending me email links for concealer makeup for my tattoos.
My heart breaks for Kinsleigh. She has dealt with so much pain in the last year with the loss of Derek’s father in August and now her Nanny. She loved Nanny. She was heartbroken when we told her Nanny wasn’t here anymore. It’s a lot of weight for an eight year old to bare.
This hit like a ton of bricks so quick that no one had time to prepare their hearts. It’s a blessing we are all so close. We can stand together and get through the next year, hand in hand, like Nana would want us to do.
I’m going to miss her so much.
The Colorado Running Realtor® 