I love my Nana. She's not someone that mixes words. You may be imagining
a Jessica Tandy or Katharine Hepburn type that knits folksy yarns together with
blunt honesty until you are encased in a kind of depression-era wisdom v-neck
sweater. No, that's not my Nana. With my Nana you tend to wind up in a
straight-jacket. It's a loving, well meaning straight-jacket but it's a
straight-jacket none the less. You see, my Nana would kick the hell out of Miss
Daisy.
On the second full day of the Cancer Cross Country Road Trip I paid a visit to Nana. We had not had a chance to see each other during the seven months or so that all of this medical nonsense had been going on. During that time she had suffered a stroke gone through rehab and was unable to travel. I had been essentially tethered to the Cancer Care Center since the failed port-a-cath. So we had plenty to catch up on.
Keeping all of this in mind I checked into the front desk of the rest home only to be informed by the receptionist that she had been there earlier to prepare them for my arrival. "A big boy with black hair and a hairy face will be coming." That was her message. A big boy. I hadn't even seen her yet and she'd already gotten me concerned about my weight. I found her room and after exchanging hugs we both got a little misty eyed over my Dad's passing. My Poppop's (her late husbands) passing a half dozen years or so earlier. Her recent move. And my recent victory over Cancer. After sharing a good cry we broke for lunch. I was still on the tail end of my liquid diet days and being the thoughtful Nana that she is she'd check ahead with the cafeteria to make sure they had items on the menu to meet my dietary needs. As it turned out the chicken broth they had promised her actually came with rice and chicken in it. I was fine with that but Nana felt betrayed. I assured her I could get it all down. As a side dish she insisted that I have a bowl of mashed potatoes. Not because I wanted them or that they were in any way recognized as being a particularly delicious side dish but because they are soft and what goes better with soup than mashed potatoes? Don't we all enjoy a light lunch of soup and potatoes with beef gravy now and then? Isn't it a popular special at most luncheonettes?
After I choked it all down we return to Nana's room and an Aunt and Uncle from my Dad's side of the family stopped by to say hello. We spent an hour or two chatting before I had to get back on the road and Nana had to start preparing for the 4pm dinner bell. We all said our good-byes, promising to see each other again as soon as possible. I also paid a short visit to another Aunt's place before retiring for the night and what promised to be an outrageously long drive to Indy in the morning. Little did I know that I was less than 24 hours away from the horror that is Snowshoe, PA.
On the second full day of the Cancer Cross Country Road Trip I paid a visit to Nana. We had not had a chance to see each other during the seven months or so that all of this medical nonsense had been going on. During that time she had suffered a stroke gone through rehab and was unable to travel. I had been essentially tethered to the Cancer Care Center since the failed port-a-cath. So we had plenty to catch up on.
Keeping all of this in mind I checked into the front desk of the rest home only to be informed by the receptionist that she had been there earlier to prepare them for my arrival. "A big boy with black hair and a hairy face will be coming." That was her message. A big boy. I hadn't even seen her yet and she'd already gotten me concerned about my weight. I found her room and after exchanging hugs we both got a little misty eyed over my Dad's passing. My Poppop's (her late husbands) passing a half dozen years or so earlier. Her recent move. And my recent victory over Cancer. After sharing a good cry we broke for lunch. I was still on the tail end of my liquid diet days and being the thoughtful Nana that she is she'd check ahead with the cafeteria to make sure they had items on the menu to meet my dietary needs. As it turned out the chicken broth they had promised her actually came with rice and chicken in it. I was fine with that but Nana felt betrayed. I assured her I could get it all down. As a side dish she insisted that I have a bowl of mashed potatoes. Not because I wanted them or that they were in any way recognized as being a particularly delicious side dish but because they are soft and what goes better with soup than mashed potatoes? Don't we all enjoy a light lunch of soup and potatoes with beef gravy now and then? Isn't it a popular special at most luncheonettes?
After I choked it all down we return to Nana's room and an Aunt and Uncle from my Dad's side of the family stopped by to say hello. We spent an hour or two chatting before I had to get back on the road and Nana had to start preparing for the 4pm dinner bell. We all said our good-byes, promising to see each other again as soon as possible. I also paid a short visit to another Aunt's place before retiring for the night and what promised to be an outrageously long drive to Indy in the morning. Little did I know that I was less than 24 hours away from the horror that is Snowshoe, PA.
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