On Loss

A year ago my Nanny (what I called my grandmother) ended her battle with breast cancer.  It was a really tough year for my family, figuring out how to live our lives without someone who was so so important to us.  And I find it really hard to talk about it still, when I think about it I still start to cry.  I am thankful for the faith that I have and the hope that my family shares in seeing my Nanny again, happy and healthy and young again on the earth.  For the time being though, it is really hard.

I like to think that each year will get easier, but in some ways I feel like each year may actually feel more difficult.  I think it will always be hard, because I don’t want to forget how important she was to me.  She had a faith so strong, and she was such a smart and cool lady.

She loved to read, and take naps in the afternoon.  Nanny was great at gardening (yeah I didn’t inherit that, I can look at a plant and it seems to die).  She loved animals of all kinds, be it bug, reptile, mammal, or bird.  Although she did like to torment the squirrels with a garden house (but that’s just fun).  She loved her husband, children, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren.  She liked to learn new things. She was bold and stubborn.  And wasn’t afraid to say how she felt.

In the New World I want to be able to tell her about all of things that we did when she wasn’t here.  I want her to be proud of me.  If I could be like anyone it would be my Nanny. These things I am writing definitely make me sad, but also happy.  I want to remember her, and although the pain of her loss will never really go away, at least I had such a  wonderful 24 years with her.

I was her first grand daughter.  And we did so many great things together.  She taught me to treat all people equally, no matter the color of their skin, their IQ or intellect, no matter what language they spoke.  My Nanny loved people, she liked to learn people’s stories and their families stories.  I was always a little envious of how well my Nanny could draw people out of their shells.  I try that, but still I know that I have not mastered the skill and probably never will.

My Nanny wasn’t perfect.  She was imperfect, like all of us.  She had her insecurities, but she didn’t allow these things to take over her life.  She just went on with things.  She never was one to just sit around and wait for things to happen. She was always doing something.  Baking, cooking, gardening, teaching, reading, and much much more.  I love her, and I look forward to seeing her again soon.

End note: if you are interested in learning more about my family’s faith you can visit jw.org