Happy Heavenly Birthday Nana

 

“The time will come when their memory will bring a smile to your lips before a tear to your eye.” Joe Biden

I love this quote and I can finally relate this to Nana. This week on September 15^th, Nana would’ve celebrated her 101^st Birthday. I thought she’d live to be at least 100. She made it to 97. Still an amazing accomplishment for a woman who survived so much. A National Depression, World War II, an alcoholic husband, four kids, a brutal factory job, a divorce and independent living until almost 95.

Memories of Nana now bring me smiles almost daily. This summer when I made Nana’s strawberry jam recipe, the sweet smell of the bubbling strawberries made me feel her presence. I remembered when she was beside me, stirring the hot berries while I added the multiple cups of sugar. I could almost hear her say, “Don’t pour the sugar in too fast—it’ll burn.” In my mind, I could picture her in her red print apron, spooning a ladle of the scalding jam into a little glass ‘tester dish.’ The tester was to make sure the batch had jelled properly. Although, I think the dish might have been an excuse for both of us to taste the sweet sticky results. And now when I make her recipe, I always have a tester dish, and smile as I lick a spoonful of my shiny, perfectly jelled jam.

Nana's red print apron and strawberry jam from Nana's Recipe

Reminders of Nana are everywhere. I recently saw a little old lady in a tan colored car driving slowly down the street. You could barely see her head above the steering wheel. I smiled and remembered Nana driving her beige 2002 Chevy Cavalier on her way to the Weis grocery store a few miles from her apartment. Her thick seat cushion raised her barely five-foot frame just enough for her to see out the windshield.

Nana loved her car and she loved to drive. But she frequently complained about all the old people driving on the road. I smile at the thought of her saying this and love that Nana never saw herself as old. She drove until she was 91 and dearly missed her car for the rest of her life.

 Nana with her 2002  Chevy Cavalier 

Memories of Nana occur when I least expect them. One day, while looking for something, I came across Nana’s lavender nightgown. When I was sorting Nana’s clothes after she passed, I found the nightgown and decided to keep it.  It was one I’d bought for her and she looked so lovely in it. Her snowy white hair complimented the delicate purple flowered fabric that draped softly over her tiny body.

Nana loved getting ready for bed early. As soon as she saw her local 6 o’clock news and watched some of NBC Nightly News with Lester Holt, she headed to her bedroom to change into her nightgown. She had a schedule to keep. She had to be back in her comfy blue chair by 7pm to watch Wheel of Fortune.

The lavender nightgown brings one of my fondest memories of Nana. During my monthly visits, she allowed me to help her put it on her. Nana had a bad right shoulder and it was painful for her to lift that arm into the sleeve. I sat beside her at the edge of her bed and helped her so she didn’t have to hurt. Then I’d lightly put my arm around her and kiss her delicate soft cheek. That memory brings me to tears.

Nana in her beautiful lavender nightgown

Not just on Nana’s birthday, but every day, I remember her and memories of her make me smile. Yes, tears come sometimes too, but now I usually smile first.

Happy Heavenly Birthday Nana.

Missing One of Nana's Girls

 

February 17^th marks three years since Sharon left us to become an Angel in Heaven. I’m sure Nana was there to greet her. The only blessing for me on that day was Nana had gone to Heaven first. For Nana, losing one of her girls would’ve broken her heart. Nana loved her two boys, but there was always a special connection between Nana and Sharon and me.

During the 1970’s, before Sharon had children, Saturdays were shopping days for Nana and Sharon and me. One of our favorite places was going to the Nittany Mall in State College, Pennsylvania. Nana still worked at the Montgomery Mills Factory, making barely $3 an hour. Sharon and I both had full time jobs. But if there was a coat I wanted and I didn’t have the money, it was Nana who helped me pay for it. If Sharon saw a sweater out of her budget, Nana stepped in so she could have it. Even with her low income, Nana was frugal and always made sure she had money to shop with us. Although Nana bought some things for herself, I remember her greatest joy was being the one to make sure we could have what we wanted.

While we were growing up, Nana wasn’t able to give us extras. Sharon and I got a lot of our clothes as donations from well-to-do relatives of my Aunt Elizabeth, Nana’s sister. Opening up the big black garbage bag of hand-me-downs with dresses and blouses and skirts was like a shopping spree. Nana was grateful for the generosity, but it hurt her to take charity. She was doing the best she could feeding four kids on a factory job while my dad used his money for trips to the local bar.

When Nana got divorced and tackled life on her own, she knew she wasn’t totally alone. Not only her girls, but her boys, supported her through car breakdowns, house repairs and unemployment.

In 1993, Sharon and I encouraged Nana to sell her house and move into a second floor, one bedroom apartment outside Montgomery. Nana loved her new home, especially the cozy balcony overlooking corn fields lined with lush trees.

In 1999, we helped Nana make a trip to Austin, Texas for her granddaughter Shelly’s wedding. Nana was returning there for the first time since 1943, when she lived there while Daddy was stationed with the Army at Camp Swift. It thrilled Sharon and I to see Nana visit the places she remembered—the address of the boarding house where she lived (which was now an office building), the grounds of the State Capitol with all its statues, and, most of all, the fields of Texas Blue Bonnets, her favorite flower.  

Diane and Nana and Sharon Austin Texas March 1999

In 2010, at age 86, Nana faced a flurry of health problems. She had four hospitalizations and three back surgeries in one year. Sharon and I were with her as she fought her way back to be home and independent. While in the hospital, she was always anxious for our visits. When we arrived, the nurses would tell us Nana kept saying, “Where are my girls?”

As Nana’s girls, Sharon and I made a pact to keep Nana in her beloved apartment as long as possible. Between us, we coordinated her doctor’s visits, her medications, her supplements and her meals. Nana loved to go and we made sure she got to go out to eat as much as possible. Sharon and I took her to Wendy’s, May’s Drive-In in Hughesville, and for her favorite fish sandwiches at The Fence in Lewisburg. Between my visits to Pennsylvania, Sharon and Nana often did drive-through meals. Something Sharon called car picnics. Nana loved it.

Nana having a car picnic 2016

Nana loved all three of us being together, but she also didn’t mind when Sharon and I got some alone time as sisters. Because we lived at a distance from each other, in-person times for Sharon and I were a special treat for me. It might just be riding along with her to take one of her kitties to the vet. Or sometimes we took a quick trip to the local Tastee-Freeze for an ice cream cone. During those times, we talked constantly. There’s something about a bond with a sister that transcends distance and time.

Even when Nana had to go into Watsontown Nursing Home in 2018, Sharon and I made sure she always had her snacks. M&M’s, KitKats and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. We arranged for her to have her hair washed and set each week, so she felt loved and pretty. Sharon took charge of her laundry and visited almost every day. I called Nana every day and visited several days each month. Nana knew ‘her girls’ were taking care of her.

Diane and Sharon at Watsontown Nursing Home November 2019

When Nana went to Heaven, I remember Sharon and I standing by her casket. I said to Sharon, “We took really good care of Nana.”

She agreed, “Yes we did.”

Because that’s what Nana’s girls did for her.

I hope now Sharon is reunited with Nana in Heaven. I miss them both every day.

Someday Nana and her girls will all be together again, but until then, I’ll savor our special memories together.

Sharon and Nana and Diane February 2020
The last time we were all together in person 

Nana - Three Years an Angel

December 6th, 2023: A date on a calendar. It has the power to propel me back to a dark day three years ago. It was a Sunday at 9:45 in the morning. Nana was gone. It wasn’t a surprise. After Nana’s Covid diagnosis, the nursing home told me she couldn’t survive it. But I refused to believe Nana couldn’t fight this battle after all the other battles she’d fought and won in her 97 years of life. 

But it wasn’t to be. The utmost cruelty of Covid was Nana passed into heaven without her family by her side. Ellie, her aide, stayed with her and I’m eternally grateful. But during the last few days and hours of Nana’s life, I couldn’t hold her hand. I couldn’t tell her how much she was loved. I couldn’t kiss her soft, wrinkled cheek and stroke her forehead. All I could do was wait for the phone call.

I hoped the pain would mute as the years passed without her. Some things have gotten better. I can say the words, “My mother died from Covid,” without breaking into a sob. I can see pictures of her and smile at her beautiful face without tears blurring my eyes every time. I can tell the stories of her life with more pride than sadness.

Although pictures of Nana evoke a flood of memories, I’m surprised when objects trigger sweet reminisces. 

A blue LED flashlight: I reached into my nightstand for a flashlight and found the shiny blue LED light. Nana always took a flashlight to her bedside every night. Her old flashlight was a silver spiral and took 2 C batteries. I have no idea when it was new. As Nana aged and her arthritic fingers struggled to change batteries, I decided she needed a new flashlight. For Christmas one year, I gifted her a glittering royal blue LED flashlight with a small push button off/on switch. This flashlight was slim in her hand and the LED light was brilliant compared to the feeble yellowish glow of her old silver flashlight. I was so pleased with myself. But on my next trip to Nana’s apartment, I found the old silver flashlight parked on her nightstand and the new blue one nowhere in sight. When I asked her about why she wasn’t using her new flashlight, she said, “I’m just so used to my old one.” Case closed. 

When I cleaned out Nana’s apartment after she moved into the nursing home, I found the shiny blue flashlight hidden away in a drawer. I took it home with me and now it reminds me of Nana and her love for her old silver flashlight. 

Nana’s lavender nightgown: As I tucked away my summer shorts and dug for my winter pajamas, I found Nana’s lavender nightgown. When I was sorting Nana’s clothes for donation or discard, I came across this nightgown and I couldn’t let it go. I bought this and several others like it for her in several colors. But Nana looked especially beautiful in the lavender pin-tucked nightgown. I can see her sitting on the edge of her bed after I helped her get it on past her bad right shoulder. Her pure white hair accented the pale purple flowers. The soft folds draped over her tiny frame, and she looked frail and delicate. And so lovely. 

Nana liked being ready for bed early, sometimes before 6pm. In her nightgown, she settled in for her nightly ritual of TV. Channel 16, 6 o’clock Local News, NBC World News with Lester Holt, Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. Rarely did she watch TV after 8pm. During my visits, at 8pm we chatted, or she did her Word Find books or re-read her Williamsport Sun Gazette morning newspaper.

With the onset of winter and dark nights, I too often get my pajamas on early. And I smile as I think of Nana looking sweet in her cozy lavender nightgown. 

Calendar sheets: As December arrives, it’s time to turn the sheet on the calendar. Nana loved her calendars. In her tiny one-bedroom apartment, she had multiple wall calendars and two small desk calendars. Every year, I bought her a Texas Wildflowers calendar she kept by her chair at her kitchen table. Texas flowers, especially Blue Bonnets, reminded her of her favorite time living as an Army wife in Austin, Texas in 1943 and 1944. 

When I visited Nana at the beginning of a month, I helped her turn all the pages of the many calendars she treasured. If we talked on the phone at the beginning of a month, she would marvel at how fast the months seemed to go by. She said, “All I do is flip calendar sheets.” 

 Christmas 2019 I gave Nana a Texas Wildflowers calendar for her room in the nursing home. Together, we looked at every picture on every month at least four times. It’s one of my happiest memories with her. 

December 6th, 2023. A date on a calendar. Instead of darkness, today I’m choosing the light of Nana’s memory. I’ll hold Nana close to my heart on this day and every day. Whether it’s a picture, a flashlight, a nightgown, or a calendar, Nana, my angel, is always with me.

Nana and Diane June 2019

Nana with Texas Calendar December 2019

Happy 100th Birthday to Nana in Heaven

 

Nana was born 100 years ago today, September 15^th, 1923 in Elimsport, Pennsylvania. She was born at home, the fourth child and third girl to Pearl and Harrison Tilburg. Her siblings were Elizabeth, thirteen years older than Nana, Grace, eleven years older and John, three years older. Ben was born seven years after Nana.

Elizabeth, Grace, John, Nana and Ben

Throughout her life, Nana faced many tough times and reasons to sour her on life in general. But somehow she kept a spark for living that always amazed me.  

Nana’s childhood wasn’t easy. Her mother was often ill and weak. Her father was addicted to moonshine and abusive. A life of poverty was her reality, growing up during the Great Depression.  

Here’s a story Nana wrote that gives a glimpse of what she experienced:

I was living by Kennedy Cross Roads when I was five years old.  One summer day my intoxicated Dad put Mother’s head on chopping block and with an ax made a threat that scared us.  So me and my brother ran to the neighbor’s and got help.  With my mother, we were taken to my Uncle Bert and Aunt Kathryn Buss’ to live for the rest of the summer.  By winter we went to live in an apartment on East 3^rd Street in Williamsport with my sisters.

Later we went back to live with Dad in a house rented from Aunt Nettie and Uncle Jim Hamilton.  From there I went to Pikes Peak School for eight years in a one room country school.

Written by Deanie Rhone, May 18^th, 2011

Nana and Uncle Bert 1929

Nana school picture

Nana’s eight years in the rural Pikes Peak School were among her pleasant memories. She liked to share how she and her brother John walked to school, even during their snowy winters.

Nana’s eighth grade education served her well. She had a sharp mind and could add a column of numbers faster than I could put them in a calculator. Nana always had a bead on her finances and kept a neat checkbook and reconciled her bank account every month. In her nineties, she reluctantly allowed me to help her with her check book and bank account but she always wanted a detailed report on her money. Nana’s income was low but she was thrifty and also generous. She always made sure she had a little cash in everyone’s birthday card.

***

I’m sure Nana had no idea how her life would change when she met a handsome young man named Stanley Rhone at Holmes’ Dance Hall just up the road from where she lived. Both nineteen, they married on October 10, 1942. The newlyweds had little time to enjoy married life because Stanley (my Daddy) was drafted into the Army in February 1942 to prepare to fight overseas in World War II.

Stanley and Deanie Rhone 

When Stanley was stationed at Camp Swift, Austin, Texas, Nana made the decision to go there to be as close to him as possible for as long as possible.

I can picture her as a brave nineteen year old, all alone and boarding a train to travel across the country. But Nana tells it best:

 I left Williamsport on the Pennsylvania Railroad bound for Austin, Texas with $30 in my pocket.  World War II was in full swing.  I changed trains in St. Louis and boarded the Katy lines.  In the seat across from me were two nice Southern girls.  They said, “Are y’all going plum to Tulsa?”  Not knowing Southern talk, I asked, “Does that mean all the way?”  They answered, “Yes.” 

The train was slow-moving and, while gazing out the window, I saw blue bonnets.  After three days and nights, I arrived in Austin.  I got a room at a boarding house on 1205 Nueces Street.  The landlady, whose name was Mabel Huckabee, was very nice.  She later got me a job at Steck Publishing Company.  I liked Austin, Texas a lot.

Written by Deanie Rhone, April 27, 2011

Nana in Austin Texas 1943

Nana’s time in Austin, Texas in 1943 remained the highlight of her life. Although she was there less than a year, her love of Austin lasted her lifetime. In 1999, at 75 years old, she went back to visit for the first time since 1943. She even found 1205 Nueces Street—no longer a boarding house, it was an office building. She visited the grounds of the Capitol where she had walked past to go to her job at Steck Publishing.

I remember watching her eyes light up at the familiar places and sensed her picturing her nineteen year old self. Maybe she allowed herself to bathe in the memories when she and Stanley were young, innocent and in love. A time before he went off to war and didn’t resemble the man she married when he returned home. But for those moments in Austin, she was back being an adventurous young woman with her life still ahead of her.

Nana followed Daddy to Rolla, Missouri in February of 1944 before he shipped out to Italy in July 1944. By this time, Nana was pregnant with her first child, Wayne, who was born November of 1944. Daddy didn’t see Wayne until he returned in early November of 1945.

After Wayne was born in 1944, Sharon was born in 1946, I was born in 1949 and Bill in 1951. Nana struggled in poverty even when Daddy had good work with the Pennsylvania Railroad. Daddy came home from the war with an addiction to alcohol and a brotherhood with his ‘drinking buddies’ that superseded his home life.

To help financially, Nana went to work in a factory in Montgomery when I was eight years old. She worked in a room that was stifling hot in the summer and cold in the winter. She spun fragile thread onto small wooden balls with an overbearing supervisor screaming at her to produce more and more each day.

Dish of ball spinning balls from Montgomery Mills

At home, Daddy drank away any extra money she saved, while Nana struggled to raise and feed four kids. Most nights, Daddy left home to drink and meet women. Nana endured this life until Bill graduated from high school and Sharon and I convinced her to leave after over 27 years of marriage. We promised to help her. We kept our promise for the rest of her life.

Nana’s youthful courage resurfaced when faced with life on her own. Like the nineteen-year-old heading to Austin, Texas, she bravely showed us her independence. When her factory job went away, she started a new career as Nana to Sharon’s children, first Lori and later, Jeff. Here’s how Nana described it:

From Montgomery Mills to the Elimsport Hills

When Montgomery Mills closed down

And moved right out of town

My ball spinning machine was taken out the door

My thirteen gross a day not made anymore

To South Carolina and they said “no way”

On to Mexico and they trashed it in a day

A factory job I could not find

To baby sit was on my mind

Then one day Sharon called me on the phone

So I became Nana to Lori at her Elimsport home

Written by: Deanie Rhone December 2010

Nana spent many happy years helping raise Lori and Jeff. She car-pooled to kindergarten and helped take care of the pets, like Thumper the bunny and Frosty the African Gray bird. She made gallons and gallons of sweet, iced tea, burned papers, did dishes and hung laundry on the clothesline. Here’s Nana’s story about Lori and the hawk:

On a day in summer hanging diapers on the line

With Lori standing by my side having a nice time

We saw a hawk flying up high

My guess was it would stay up near the sky

As time went on it came a lot lower down

And then I got worried as it headed for the ground

I picked up Lori and into the house for good

As it swooped down to the ground where we stood

By Deanie Rhone, January 2011

In 1993, Nana sold her house on Melvina Street in Montgomery and moved into a one-bedroom balcony apartment in Houston Ridge just outside of town. Her balcony looked down on a corn field with the Pennsylvania mountains framing her view in the distance. It was a perfect place for Nana’s retirement years. Her biggest loss was her own washing machine (she never liked going to the laundry room at the apartment complex.) But she no longer had to worry about house maintenance or a yard that needed mowed.

Nana at Houston Ridge Apartment 2013

When I moved out of Pennsylvania in 1999, Nana was angry and disappointed. But when I moved to Virginia in 2000, she agreed to come visit. She fell in love with the Blue Ridge Mountains and sitting on the porch of our Ruckersville home. Here’s Nana’s story about her time in Virginia:

The Blue Ridge Mountains

When Diane took me from PA to Ruckersville, VA, what a great time I had!  First we stopped at Cracker Barrel, then on down to view the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Then we went up to Skyline Drive.  At the entrance I got a Golden Age Passport, good for life.  The many views from there leaves a lot of great memories.

Then we drove on to Ruckersville, VA to Bernice Lane for a visit with Diane and Jan.  It is a nice neighborhood where I sat on the front porch many hours and enjoyed it so much.  The mailman always waved at me and then I walked down the driveway and got the mail.

The neighbor Billy was very friendly and he called me Mom.  I watched him come and go from work and we went across the road to his house and watched TV on his wide-screen.

I had my special chair for a nice view out the window with Mitzi sitting on the back of the chair.  To Mitzi I was Nana and I gave her lots of treats every day. 

Nice memories……

Written by Deanie Rhone, June 15^th, 2011

Nana at Bernice Lane, Ruckersville VA

Nana and Mitzi 2002

In 2009, Nana had some health problems. She had four hospitalizations and three surgeries to correct discs in her back. This might have made some 80 somethings give up and sit in their rocking chairs. But not Nana. She fought back and kept driving and going to May’s Drive-In to eat and the Weis grocery store.

Starting in 2009, I visited Nana more often. Every month, for at least four days, I stayed with Nana and cleaned her apartment, did some laundry, and took her to appointments and out to eat. Sharon and I coordinated her care with doctors and meds and vitamins. We took care of Nana like we promised. 

In 2015, Nana fell while hurrying to answer her door. She tripped on the leg of her kitchen table and crashed to the floor. She broke her hip, her pelvis and her ankle. She endured two surgeries, a week in the hospital followed by three months in Muncy Skilled Nursing. After a month at The Meadows Assisted Living Center, Nana returned home. She was thrilled to be home, but she was weak, and we knew she needed help. Sadly, she couldn’t drive and that broke her heart. We were fortunate to find her a helper named Cindy. At first, she came a few hours a week but her time with Nana gradually increased as Nana needed more help.

We felt blessed for Nana to return to her beloved apartment. To read her Sun Gazette each morning, to enjoy her game shows—The Price is Right, Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. To munch on her KitKats, M&M’s and Reese Peanut Butter Cups. To sit in the apartment gazebo and hobnob with her neighbors. Again, I was in awe of Nana’s resilience and optimism to make the best of her situation.

Nana at the gazebo Houston Ridge

On July 12, 2018, I had to admit Nana to Watstontown Nursing & Rehab because, even with Cindy’s help, she was no longer safe to live alone in her apartment. That day was one of the hardest days of my life. Nana was not ok with it. She fought me and everyone in the nursing home. I remember thinking, “She won’t last six months in there.”

But, as always, Nana surprised me. I’ll admit, it was a rough start but eventually she adjusted. She made friends with her roommate Ruth and, during my monthly visits with her, we could just enjoy being together. No apartment to clean, no appointments to keep. I called her every day and frequently communicated with the nursing home to make sure she was getting the best care. In addition to Sharon's many visits, Lori and Sharon, and I had Cindy visit almost daily. She was surrounded with love and attention.

Cindy and Nana 2019

Nana and Sharon and Diane February 2020

Then March 2020, Covid hit all of us. We were on our way to see Nana when I got the call from the nursing home that we weren’t allowed to visit. I was crushed. During Covid, we did visits with Nana in a plexiglass booth and outside a window with a telephone. But after February 2020, I never got to give her a hug, or kiss her cheek.

Nana and family August 2020

When I got the call in November the day after Thanksgiving that Nana had Covid, my heart sank. But I thought of all the things Nana had survived and I was hopeful she could beat this deadly disease. We only had a few more years for her to get to ‘triple digits’—her 100^th Birthday, like we talked about every birthday.

But it wasn’t to be. Nana passed away at 9:45am on Sunday, December 6^th, 2020, at 97 years old. I couldn’t be with her physically. I hope she knew I was holding her in my heart. Just as I’ve held her in my heart every day since that day. Just as I’m holding her in my heart today on her 100^th Birthday, and just as I’ll hold her in my heart every day until we meet again.

Happy Heavenly 100^th Birthday, Nana.  

Nana and Diane June 2019

May and Mother's Day Memories with Nana

 

Nana at Wendy's May 2017

This picture from May 2017 came up on my Facebook memories. It’s one I took of Nana enjoying her Wendy’s lunch—junior hamburger plain, a chocolate Frosty, a small Sprite and a few of my French fries with catsup.

It’s hard to believe six years have passed. I notice all the things I miss about her. Her perfectly coifed snow-white hair, her pure skin with less wrinkles than anyone would expect of a 93 year-old lady, her painfully crippled arthritic fingers clutching her burger, and her naturally pink lips.

Nana and I always celebrated Mother’s Day early. Her favorite spots to eat were Wendy’s and The Fence in Lewisburg, where we both enjoyed the delicious fish sandwiches.

Nana liked practical gifts for Mother’s Day—M&M’s, KitKats, Word Find Books and Sun Gazette Newspaper subscriptions. Nana used to say, “I don’t need stuff to sit around and collect dust.”

Although it’s easy to think we’ll always have the ones we love, I knew every day we had Nana in our lives was a bonus. But facing my third Mother’s Day without Nana makes me miss her even more than I do every other day.

I remember the big celebrations. Like Nana’s 75^th Surprise Birthday Party (she did NOT appreciate the surprise), or her 90^th Birthday Bash with lots of family and friends and food.

But the memories that often pop into my mind are the small things. Like the times watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy together, having Nana read the Sun Gazette to me, and our lunches at Wendy’s and The Fence.

Happy Mother’s Day Nana. I'll love you forever. 

Nana at The Fence 2016

Missing Sharon – one of Nana’s girls

Years ago, Nana was in the hospital— maybe after a fall, maybe after a back surgery. I was there to visit and help her when she was ready to go home. As I entered her room, the nurse said, “I’m glad you’re here. She’s been asking, ‘Where are my girls?” 

Sharon and I are Nana’s girls. It doesn’t matter Nana has passed away. It doesn’t matter two years ago today, Sharon passed away. Sharon and I will always be Nana’s girls. 

Sharon and I were a team on everything Nana. We were together in 1969 when we convinced Nana it was time to leave Daddy. As Nana sat in a drafty, rundown house with no teeth in her mouth, Daddy was cheating on her with other women and drinking away the household money. Sharon and I were both on our own and promised to help her. We helped her find a place to live and get dentures for the first time in fifteen years. Over the years, along with our brother Bill, we helped her move, helped her buy cars and helped with home repairs. 

When Nana lost her factory job at Montgomery Mills, Sharon helped. She offered Nana a new career as a caregiver for daughter Lori and later her son Jeff. In return, Nana took tender care of Sharon’s loved ones—Lori and Jeff and any animals in the house like Thumper the bunny and Frosty the African Gray.

 As Nana aged, Sharon and I coordinated phone calls to check on her day and night. I did the daytime check-ins and Sharon was the nighttime gal. For years, Nana called Sharon every night before she went to bed. She often talked to Sharon’s voicemail but she never failed to call. And Sharon always checked for Nana’s call. 

During my monthly visits, one of Nana’s greatest joys was when Sharon joined us on our outings to May’s Restaurant or The Fence. Sometimes just Sharon and I got together for a quick ride while Sharon took her kitties to the vet, or a fast run to get a soft serve ice cream cone. Nana was always so happy when ‘her girls’ hung out together. 

As Nana’s girls, Sharon and I coordinated care for Nana’s health. We discussed and agreed about her doctor’s appointments, medications and supplements. Together, we found creative ways to get Nana to eat more food and drink more fluids, even if that was Kentucky Fried Chicken, KitKats and Sprite. Later, we communicated with Nana’s care helper Cindy about all of Nana’s wants and needs. Because Nana’s girls knew her the best.

As the only surviving one of Nana's girls, I'm lonely today and miss them both so much. The years we all had together weren't enough. I want another fish sandwich lunch together at The Fence. I want more phone conversations with Sharon about Nana and, well, just everything. I want another of Sharon's famous 'selfies' of all of us together.

My only solace is now Nana is with one of her girls and someday Nana and 'her girls' will be reunited. 

Diane and Sharon - Nana's Girls - November 2019

Nana and Jan and Diane and Sharon November 2019
Selfie by Sharon 

Nana and her girls, Sharon and Diane February 2020
The last time we were all together in person. 

December 6, 2022 Two Years without Nana

I dreaded this day. Another year hasn’t lessened the sadness. It only cracks open the pain and grief of not having Nana in my life. It’s a reminder of all I’ve lost. Today I did something I’ve avoided for two years – I watched some of the videos of Zoom meetings we did while Nana was on Covid lockdown in the Watsontown Nursing Home. It was like joyful torture. Seeing her sweet smile, hearing her lilting laugh, and watching her gnarled fingers clutch the phone so she could hear me.

From March 2020 through November 2020, I did everything I could to stay connected to Nana. I called her every day. In June, Jan and I visited Nana outside while she was protected in a plexiglass booth. In August, we again visited outside the booth with Bill and Marcia and Sharon and Ron joining us. Since Nana couldn’t hear us on the June visit, I brought a white board in August. We conversed via writing on the board. Nana loves to read and we all had so much fun with her. By September, the booth was no longer available so I arranged window visits from a downstairs room at the nursing home. We talked to Nana via the phone but it was hard for her to see and hear us. On our October 10^th window visit, Sharon was able to join us at the last minute and Nana’s face lit up when she saw Sharon. On October 25^th, Jan and I did our last window visit with Nana.

When the nursing home offered the Zoom visits via IPad, I jumped at the chance to see Nana’s beautiful face and have her see me. Over those eight months, Nana and I did more than sixteen Zoom visits. I recorded most of them and those videos are a treasure. I was so blessed to have those face to face conversations where we could see and hear each other.  One of the first Zoom visits, when she saw me on the screen, she said to the volunteer helping her “That’s so sweet.”

Then she looked up at the volunteer and said, “That’s my Diane.”

My heart melted.

On our Mother’s Day Zoom visit May 10^th, her words were my gift.

As we closed our visit, I said, “I love you.”

She replied, “Oh, I love you too. You’re such a good girl.”

That conversation is wrapped in love in my memory forever.

 

  

Watching the last Zoom from November 24^th, 2020 was the hardest. I could see the isolation had taken a toll on Nana. She was tired and distracted. Her beautiful white hair hung loose and unkempt, unlike the days when she had regular appointments in the nursing home beauty parlor. I could see her fingernails needed cut. Her Covid diagnosis came three days later so perhaps she was already not feeling well. Despite her fatigue, I still got a smile, a little laugh, and Nana and I still had some conversation—about naps and calendar sheets and Lori’s Thanksgiving card. If I had only known that was the last time I would see her precious face, I’d have stayed on longer to savor everything about her. But we ended as usual.

"Bye Bye" She said.  

"I love you and I'll call you tomorrow, like I do every day." I told her as we closed. 

As sad as I feel today, I also feel grateful. Grateful to have had so many years with Nana. Grateful to have known her so well. Grateful to have spent so much time with her—listening to her stories about World War II, taking her out to eat, taking her shopping, watching her game shows with her, seeing her spend hours reading the morning paper. She was a model for me of courage and bravery, humor and persistence. She loved life and lived every day with enthusiasm. For 97 years. But, for me, 97 years was still not enough.  

Next year this day will still bring me sadness. That’s the price for loving so deeply. But I’ll keep Nana’s memory close every day until we meet again.

February 2020, Last in person visit with Nana 

August 2020, Booth Visit 

October 2020, Sharon, Nana and Diane window visit