A Sixpack of Fear: Families Are Forever

Right around the time Calvin was born, my mom stopped by my house with a box of things that my Nana (my mom's mom) wasn't able to use anymore due to her poor health. The box contained a lot of fabric, which was exciting to me because I was starting to do quite a bit of sewing. As I looked through the box, I came across some quilt pieces. These weren't just any quilt pieces... they were lovingly embroidered by my Nana with the names of her and my Papa, and all their children, and their birth dates and places. It was family history, but it was in pieces. I knew in that instant what I needed to do.

So with a newborn baby at my side, I started piecing together the quilt. As I worked, I thought of my Nana. I thought of how, despite poor physical health, she was still quick as a whip. I thought of the many times we would visit her and Papa at the big house in Vermont, and what an adventure that always was. I thought about how she and I would go, by ourselves, out on the lake in a little rowboat and just spent time together. I thought about a million other memories that all added up to one thing: how much I loved her.

A few weeks later, I handed Nana and Papa their Christmas present. I was so excited, I could barely contain myself. Somehow it ended up that there were only a few people in the room when she opened the present, and I was selfishly happy about that, because, to me, it was a special moment that I didn't really want to share with anyone else.

Nana unwrapped the paper, and confusion, then recognition crossed her face. "I made this..." she said, her voice trailing off. "Yes, and I finished it for you, " I answered. Her eyes filled with tears as we laid out the quilt for her and Papa to see. She was so happy and surprised, and I felt the pure joy that comes from making someone you love happy.

My cousin broke the silence. "Man, now all of our gifts are going to look like crap!" I had to laugh, because it sounded just like something my nana might say.

Yesterday, June 20th 2011, my sweet Nana passed away. She left her broken body and all the pains that came with it, and joined her Savior and her loved ones that have gone on before. I'm sure it was a joyous reunion, and I am happy for her, but I also already miss her very much.

I was so blessed to see her on Sunday, the day before she passed. I held her hand and told her how much I love her, and shared with her some of the wonderful memories I have of her. She was so ill that she could not respond, but I know she heard me. And I know that when it is my turn to leave this life behind, Nana will be there on the other side, waiting for me with a big smile and open arms (and maybe a crockpot of meatballs).

I love you, Nana.