When I was a little girl, I used to love the holidays…Our celebration was usually small – Mom, Dad, Michael Edward, Grandpa, Nana and me…I loved it when Grandpa and Nana would come because the holidays were never just one day. They always came a few days early to help get ready and left a few days later to help recover. When they came, you knew it was special. The house felt a little warmer – with the fire glowing, more warm faces and more hugs to go around; smelled a little more delicious with krispies in the frier and renowned red peppers and relish in the fridge; and looked a little brighter. Mom and Dad tell me that I was infamous for, on several occasions, getting so excited for these days I would end up with a stomach ache!

After the leftovers were wrapped, gifts put away and decorations taken down, my excited anticipation was proportional to the disappointment of knowing the holidays were over. With tears rolling down my little cheeks, I used to stand at the glass window on the front door, watching as Grandpa and Nana’s car pulled out of the drive way and sounded two honks before turning down the street. I never wanted them to leave because I loved the way the house felt with them in it…

What I loved most about Nana was her innocence…Her ability to see the good in people was astounding. Everything she did – the way she walked, the way she spoke, the way she held my hand, or wrapped her arms around me, she did with a delicate innocence. Which is something I could never figure out – how someone so innocent and fragile could simultaneously be the strongest woman I have ever met. She may have needed help getting in and out of the car, or up and down stairs, but her strength dwarfed mine even in the strongest race of my life. Her ability to endure the negative with such grace and faith is a trait one can only hope is genetic, or inherited through careful observation and admiration…

While I can’t prove that I am any wiser, time can verify that I am much older…yet I’m still standing at the door – tears in my eyes, not wanting her to go…I love the way life feels with her in it. However, life isn’t and wasn’t always beautiful, particularly in these past few months. The beauty in pain and suffering was very hard to find. But when you’ve spent your life loving your husband, your children, your grandchildren and your family with the strength and passion that she did….it makes for a very beautiful ride.

I’m sorry I could not be there for you Nana and I’m sorry if I caused you to suffer more than you needed to, but I know how much you loved me - you would never let me forget it. And I pray that you know how much I love you. Now it is perhaps easier to tell you in person that I am and will always be your big doll.

May the Lord’s light shine perpetually upon your delicate face as you rest in peace.

January 24, 1922 – April 20, 2007