Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
Morning
I've challenged myself to take one picture everyday, following a theme my friend shared with me. Here is day one.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Nanna Lou
Today would have been my grandmother, Nanna Lou’s, 100th birthday. She was a very pious and devout woman. When I was eight, she had a stroke that left her paralyzed on one side of her body. With her stroke, she lost her ability to verbally communicate. She would babble on, but we could understand a lot of her meaning through her intonation. She wore a pair of pants for the first time when she was 80 years old. In a wheelchair, it was no longer appropriate for her to wear a skirt. Despite her lack of expressive language, she made it very clear through her vocalizations that she was very unhappy about the pants. In an effort to keep her feet from becoming atrophied, her doctor told my uncle that she needed to wear a pair of high-top shoes. My uncle went to the Shoe Carnival and bought a pair of turquois Chuck Taylors. We were fortunate that Grandma’s vision was affected by the stroke; she would have thrown a fit if she saw those ugly shoes on her feet.
Nanna Lou attended the church of Christ, which does not use any musical accompaniment. When she was admitted to the nursing home, the director insisted that Grandma would love the daily gospel music sing along. Grandma did not like the sing along. She would sit in the room with her one good arm crossed across her body and a frown on her face. When my dad got the report that Grandma would not sing (in her own way) along with the group, he was baffled. Finally, he went with her to the sing along and realized that there was a person that played piano along with the songs. The piano accompaniment was unacceptable to Grandma. Once she was removed from the rec room of blasphemous music, she would sing along with us with great excitement when we sang her church songs. Once we excitedly told her that our friend from church, Mildred, was pregnant. We expected her to react with excitement. Instead, she went off, clearly very unhappy about the news. Dad quickly realized that he had forgotten to tell Grandma that Mildred had recently gotten married. When he cleared that up, her tone immediately went from angry, to the sweetest, happiest tone. Even though she could no longer speak, her spirituality and firm beliefs held up, even after the stroke. That’s such a great testimony to her devotion.
After her stroke, there were only two times that we heard her say an understandable word. The first time was when we took her out to Blue Boar restaurant. As we were leaving, she looked at my dad and very clearly said, “Thank You.” The other time was when we were teasing her. Grandma was a very serious woman. I don’t remember laughing with her a lot as a kid. After her stroke, she laughed a lot more. My dad was telling her about our dog, Molly. Dad asked her who she though was prettier, me or Molly. Again, in a very clear voice, she answered, “Molly,” with a big smile. I could tell she knew that we had understood exactly what she said and was pleased with herself. We all had a good laugh about that.
I always loved her like crazy. Prior to her stroke, if there was a snow day or if I was sick, my mom would take me to her house for the day. She did not have much money and lived on a very tight budget. She received cheese from the government, which she used to make the best macaroni I’ve ever eaten. She grew rhubarb and made an incredible rhubarb pie. Each of the grandkids had their own colored plastic glass. She had bought us each a ceramic bell that was displayed high on the bookshelf in the kid’s bedroom. She wore the knock-off brands of old lady smelling perfume with the dumbest names. “If you love White Diamonds, you’ll love Blue Sapphires.” ON her dresser in her bedroom, she had two pictures of my grandfather. One was a professional picture of him in his military uniform. The other was a picture of him in the middle of an Army camp, wearing only his underwear. I thought that was so naughty as a kid. In the mudroom of her house, there was a place on the wall where she measured and marked each of the grandchildren. It made me so incredibly sad when they painted over it.
Grandma was a subservient woman, but also did some things that did not fit into typical women’s roles of the times. She changed her name when she was 19, from Nanny Lou to Nanna Lou. We did not know this until she died and we read it in one of her journals we found. She said she changed it because there was a girl at her school named Hannah and she thought that was a nicer name than Nanny. She did not get married until she was 30, which effectively made her a spinster. Instead, she focused on her education and career as a teacher. She moved to Louisiana all by herself to teach. She moved back here to teach at Shakertown. Her husband died when she was 45, leaving her to raise four kids all by herself. She continued substitute teaching to support her family. She told a family friend that she never remarried because she knew that she could never love anyone like she had loved my grandfather.
As I mentioned before, she was not happy when she thought that our friend was pregnant without being married. I can only imagine how upset she would have been if she was alive when I got pregnant. I had rougher than normal teenage years; I would have probably given her another stroke had she seen her pierced and tattooed granddaughter. Even so, I know that she would have still loved me and that she would have loved Denali. She loved teddy bears and cardinals. She has been gone for 15 years now, but every time I see a cardinal, I think of her and smile.
Nanna Lou attended the church of Christ, which does not use any musical accompaniment. When she was admitted to the nursing home, the director insisted that Grandma would love the daily gospel music sing along. Grandma did not like the sing along. She would sit in the room with her one good arm crossed across her body and a frown on her face. When my dad got the report that Grandma would not sing (in her own way) along with the group, he was baffled. Finally, he went with her to the sing along and realized that there was a person that played piano along with the songs. The piano accompaniment was unacceptable to Grandma. Once she was removed from the rec room of blasphemous music, she would sing along with us with great excitement when we sang her church songs. Once we excitedly told her that our friend from church, Mildred, was pregnant. We expected her to react with excitement. Instead, she went off, clearly very unhappy about the news. Dad quickly realized that he had forgotten to tell Grandma that Mildred had recently gotten married. When he cleared that up, her tone immediately went from angry, to the sweetest, happiest tone. Even though she could no longer speak, her spirituality and firm beliefs held up, even after the stroke. That’s such a great testimony to her devotion.
After her stroke, there were only two times that we heard her say an understandable word. The first time was when we took her out to Blue Boar restaurant. As we were leaving, she looked at my dad and very clearly said, “Thank You.” The other time was when we were teasing her. Grandma was a very serious woman. I don’t remember laughing with her a lot as a kid. After her stroke, she laughed a lot more. My dad was telling her about our dog, Molly. Dad asked her who she though was prettier, me or Molly. Again, in a very clear voice, she answered, “Molly,” with a big smile. I could tell she knew that we had understood exactly what she said and was pleased with herself. We all had a good laugh about that.
I always loved her like crazy. Prior to her stroke, if there was a snow day or if I was sick, my mom would take me to her house for the day. She did not have much money and lived on a very tight budget. She received cheese from the government, which she used to make the best macaroni I’ve ever eaten. She grew rhubarb and made an incredible rhubarb pie. Each of the grandkids had their own colored plastic glass. She had bought us each a ceramic bell that was displayed high on the bookshelf in the kid’s bedroom. She wore the knock-off brands of old lady smelling perfume with the dumbest names. “If you love White Diamonds, you’ll love Blue Sapphires.” ON her dresser in her bedroom, she had two pictures of my grandfather. One was a professional picture of him in his military uniform. The other was a picture of him in the middle of an Army camp, wearing only his underwear. I thought that was so naughty as a kid. In the mudroom of her house, there was a place on the wall where she measured and marked each of the grandchildren. It made me so incredibly sad when they painted over it.
Grandma was a subservient woman, but also did some things that did not fit into typical women’s roles of the times. She changed her name when she was 19, from Nanny Lou to Nanna Lou. We did not know this until she died and we read it in one of her journals we found. She said she changed it because there was a girl at her school named Hannah and she thought that was a nicer name than Nanny. She did not get married until she was 30, which effectively made her a spinster. Instead, she focused on her education and career as a teacher. She moved to Louisiana all by herself to teach. She moved back here to teach at Shakertown. Her husband died when she was 45, leaving her to raise four kids all by herself. She continued substitute teaching to support her family. She told a family friend that she never remarried because she knew that she could never love anyone like she had loved my grandfather.
As I mentioned before, she was not happy when she thought that our friend was pregnant without being married. I can only imagine how upset she would have been if she was alive when I got pregnant. I had rougher than normal teenage years; I would have probably given her another stroke had she seen her pierced and tattooed granddaughter. Even so, I know that she would have still loved me and that she would have loved Denali. She loved teddy bears and cardinals. She has been gone for 15 years now, but every time I see a cardinal, I think of her and smile.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
two months ago...
I told you that my life was almost always exceptionally great, but that I was having a hard time. I considered myself in between greatnesses.
I'm back in greatness.
The past week has been incredibly good. There has been closure from old wounds that I thought would take a lot longer to heal. There have been people reaching out to me, from seemingly nowhere, to tell me exactly what I need to hear. There have been very clear messages received. There have been fears that have been appeased and lessened. There has been a ton of dancing. There has been new favorite music that I can't (and don't want to) get out of my head. There has been incredible generosity and providence. During the past two months, greatness felt few and far between. In the past week, I feel like I have boarded a plane in Nebraska, where there are plenty of beautiful things, but not the things that I wanted, flown on a really turbulent flight, then arrived safe and sound in the middle of a new city that already feels like home.
I'm back in greatness.
The past week has been incredibly good. There has been closure from old wounds that I thought would take a lot longer to heal. There have been people reaching out to me, from seemingly nowhere, to tell me exactly what I need to hear. There have been very clear messages received. There have been fears that have been appeased and lessened. There has been a ton of dancing. There has been new favorite music that I can't (and don't want to) get out of my head. There has been incredible generosity and providence. During the past two months, greatness felt few and far between. In the past week, I feel like I have boarded a plane in Nebraska, where there are plenty of beautiful things, but not the things that I wanted, flown on a really turbulent flight, then arrived safe and sound in the middle of a new city that already feels like home.
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