My Nana and I were always very close. She passed away a couple of years ago now on what would of been my mom’s birthday. funny how these things happen. I still miss her everyday. She passed down her wedding rings to me. I am so honoured to have them. They will always be a symbol of her love and devotion not only to my Papa but to her family as well. They are a symbol that love does last. That marriage is a partnership. That there good times that help get you through the hard ones. They are a symbol of generations past. When I look at them I also remember so many things about her and good times we had together.
I remember :
- making vanilla milkshakes from scratch and taking them to great-grandma’s
- camping in the Boler every summer at places like Millersylvnia or Camp Charis
- when you were cross you would always say “oh sugar”
- our little chats
- road trips to from here to Washington or Alberta in the Volvo
- the smell of your face powder
- your laugh
- when you went go karting with me at 70 something years old
- that time you put Absorbine Jr on D’s back and it ran down his crack and he was hoping around like crazy
- scotch mints
- crouching by the heat register waiting for dough to rise
- the smell of your buns
- baking without recipes
- the feeling of holding your hand
- the stories you would tell of growing up, working at the bakery, joining the salvation army, nursing, leaving to marry the man with “beautiful, beautiful brown eyes”, my mom when she was young
- the smell of mentholatum
- hiding in the secret space below the stairs
- hot springs
- a train trip to a family reunion
- VBS
- silver birch china
- feeding the ducks
- holiday family dinners
- hearing you sigh “oh daddy”
- stinging nettles, eating blackberries and getting hives
- devotions, night time prayers that “never ended”
Most of all I remember her faith. His light and love shone through her in every part of her life. It defined her. It was inspiring.
