Nanna

This morning my Nanna went home to Jesus.  She has been coping with Alzheimer's for several years now, so I usually say that my Nanna has been gone for a while.   This morning about 4, she officially left us.   And my heart is broken.   This is something that we have all believed for some time would be the best thing for her, but now that is is reality, it is much harder than I ever dreamed.   

Nanna loved to be outside.  She loved to garden and fish.   She cooked me the best chicken and rice in the whole wide world.   She made the best apple pie.   Period.    When we were little, my sisters and I spent almost every Friday night at Pap and Nanna's house.  We watched Dukes of Hazard, Dallas, and Falcon Crest at her house.   She would lay in the bed with us, scratch our backs, and tell us wonderful stories of her childhood.   She would wake up in the middle of the night and if she couldn't go back to sleep, she would mop her floor.  She and I would sit and shell peas and solve the world's problems.   I wish I could tell you how many hours I spent sitting in their living room talking with her.   She was the best listener.   She took us fishing, shopping, and out to lunch.   We even went to Branson with the two of the them.   She always wanted us to come up and help her decorate her Christmas tree.   Last year when I visited with her at Christmas, I cried thinking about the fond memories of that.   She and Pap came to the house every year on Christmas morning after everything was opened up to see our loot.   They oohed and awed every time.   

My Nanna loved her family so much and in so many ways.   My list is short but my memories are long.   I cannot do her justice here.   It just isn't possible.   She was the picture of putting others first and loving unconditionally and spoiling your family.   She is at peace and she isn't coping with a wretched, awful sickness anymore.   And I will cling to the wonderful memories of her and try to share them with my children - as they have never known the Nanna I knew.  

I love you, Nanna.