Adios, Nana

My Nana passed away on Friday, April 3, 2009. She was 86 years old.

She was the only grandparent I remember. She was my mom's mother.

My Nana was a funny lady. Just last Saturday all of my sisters were together and we were able to visit with her. We told her that we would be by on Monday to sing to her and we hoped she could get out of bed to dance. She quickly put up her arms and started to pretend to dance.

I have many memories of her. When I was little my family would go to San Luis, Mexico just about every Saturday and visit her. Every once in a while I would stay with her for a week during the summers.

There I learned that 5am is a good time to get up and make coffee and go outside and water all the plants. It is also a good time to sweep the dirt. I learned how to wash clothes by hand. She had a "lavadero" outside and we would lather up a bar of soap and start to scrub our clothes.

She made the best tamales and tortillas. I remember her taking a small ball of dough and start to pat it. She would keep patting this dough until she had a tortilla at least a foot and a half in diameter. She would let me try. I could never make them nearly as thin or as round as she could.

She also loved to tease me. She knew I was gullible and once told me that she had put cockroaches in the dinner and I believed her.

She taught me about making do with what you have. The only TV set in her house was in the bedroom. Her room was an extension of the kitchen and we would always gather in there. She always liked to show us her "remote control." It was a long stick. She could be in her bed and reach out and push the on/off button with her "remote." We knew we couldn't play with that stick because it belonged next to her bed.

She was a devout Catholic. She had her Saints that she liked to pray to. We felt bad when, not once but twice, my sister Ericka accidentally broke her most precious Saint. My oldest cousin was frantically trying to glue it back together before she got back. We knew she was extremely upset when she saw what we had done but she didn't yell or scream or do any of those things. We didn't dare look at her in the eyes.

This past August I was in Yuma visiting and we were able to see her. She asked when I was going to be leaving and I told her the day. The day came when I was loading my children in the van getting ready to leave when the phone rang. It was her and she was calling to wish me a safe trip. She said to me, "Te quiero, mi amor." ("I love you, my love.")

Nana, I love you, too.

(The picture is Brandon with my Nana, taken in December 1997.)