You always wanted us to have something good. Whether it was the turkey, chicken, beans, potatoes, macaroni and cheese, pumpkin, Grape Nuts, or ice cream. Whether it was planning Easter Egg hunts, dinners, tips, or just coming out from that house in the Blue Ridge Mountains to greet us with open arms and a smile that brings to mind one word: happiness.
Nana was kind in the way grandmothers are thought of. She gave me presents, told me to study hard, and held me and hugged me. When I was bad to my sister, she would chide me, in a way so gentle even at a very young age I would feel ashamed for not listening to her. She told me I should be good to my sister, but she always told me I was a good boy. I wanted to please her.
Nana loved the birds, flowers, and fresh air up there in those mountains with Ding. That is my strongest and lasting memory of her. Sitting in a wooden chair or on the swing, kneeling by the garden or by my sister helping her find that elusive egg, or standing in front of the house always clad in a pastel blue or pink or yellow as soft and natural as the mountains and breeze.
Nana made the best bread I ever tasted in my life. The golden rolls, and especially the slightly sweetened loaves she knew I loved. I always wanted that bread, when we're kids we always want something good. And she gave it to me. Even when her mind began to deteriorate she wanted to help out. As before, she never wanted others to do the dishes. She wanted to help even more, perhaps she knew what was happening to her and was determined to fight it and show she was still the same old Helen Hawks. It was within a year that she tried once to pour salt into my cereal, asking me if I wanted to try something good. I remember I felt annoyed. As months and then years went by and her condition worsened and I sometimes wondered to myself would I cry when she died. I had begun to feel something like...ambivalence. I had forgotten my grandmother, forgotten how she was.
That time when she mistook salt for sugar, she was only staying true to her nature. She wanted to provide something to make me happier and a little more satisfied. Even in the later stages of her Altzheimers, even when she failed to recognize anyone except for Ding (who's always been by her side and she by his), one could feel it. Her smile was still there, she still loved the birds and was concerned about my education and informing me of what was important. The last time I spent with her was this June. She looked sad to watch me leave, but she was happy when she recognized me-flashing that warm and delicate smile and the clearest symbol that she was still herself shone through the haze. She was still Nana. I am sad to hear of her passing, but happy that we all got to know one of the kindest and warmest women in the world.
I love you Nana.
