Eulogy for Nana

We are here today to celebrate the life of Evelyn; Aunt Evie; The Bull; Scottie; Scott; Ebby, but to me and many of us, she was Nana.

I was the first grandchild of Nana and PapPap, and I was spoiled! So were Justin, Scott, Jesse and Cory, but I was the only girl, and I worked it! My childish selfishness aside, I know it pleased Nana to make us all happy, that is who she was. She loved to know she was giving everyone what they wanted, what they needed, or what made them happy. She always remembered birthdays and anniversaries and made a point to make them all a big deal. And Christmas, oh my goodness! She never tried to buy our love, she just took hers and wrapped it all up in paper and bows and had it spread all over the living room so you couldn't even walk through there! It was insane, but now with kids and a grandchild of my own, I certainly understand it.

My best memories of Nana though, are mostly centered around the pool at Washington Square. She sat there tirelessly, without complaint, for endless hours of many summers. The moment the gate opened, to the moment it was locked, we were there. We would break for lunch, walk to Coffee's fruit stand and buy fruit, mostly cantaloupe, have some lunch, watch General Hospital, then go back to the pool after dinner. On second thought, there were a few complaints: when it was closing time and I refused to get out of the pool, especially when she was fully clothed and couldn't come in after me. I will never smell Hawaiian Tropic suntan oil without thinking of her! Then at night we would crawl in her bed and watch tv. I will also never be able to smell Vick's VapoRub without thinking of her! She just could not sleep unless she had a healthy dose smeared beneath her nose.

But what I did not appreciate until much later, was what a remarkable and extraordinary woman she was! She wasn't just a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and even a great-great grandmother. Before that, she was a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, an aunt, and a friend. She survived so many things that, singled out may seem common or even ordinary, but collectively are hard to imagine. She was burned as a child, which left her scarred. She worried about those scars all her life, but I never noticed them. She survived uterine cancer, in a time when that nearly took a miracle. She married a man who would get a call and be gone for months at a time, without knowing when or even if he would return. Little did she know then that he would be changing the world forever. She raised three kids, mostly without him there with her to help with the day to day craziness. She traveled with those kids on a ship from here to Europe, a ship that almost capsized. Then transferred them, all crying because they didn't want to go, to a train full of sick children, to Germany. As a mother who tries to avoid taking three kids to the grocery store, and who can't imagine a day without her husband by her side, I feel small and awed by that. She buried a son, then turned around a short time later and put her other son on a plane to Vietnam. My visceral reaction to any of these things alone is that I would not be able to bear it, and collectively, well that is just unimaginable to me. My heart says I would not survive it, but because of Nana and other strong women like her, I have faith that I could.

Nana was struck with the disease she probably feared the most. She watched with agony for years as her own sister slowly disappeared. It broke her heart when Thelma no longer recognized her. So when we realized Nana would endure the same fate, it crushed us all. We all suffered the same agony when she no longer recognized us, and wept for joy when the fleeting moments of recognition came. Nancy Reagan called Alzheimer's "the long goodbye", but I think it is more like a long series of goodbyes, for when she would have moments of clarity, when she would look directly in our eyes and we knew she knew who she was looking at, we would have to start the grieving process all over again when they were over. I pray every day that we are able to one day soon unlock the mystery of Alzheimer's so others do not have to encounter the slow and difficult losses our family has.

But for Nana, I am rejoicing. She is freed from the chains of her disease. She has gone home. She has longed for many years to be reunited with so many. What a moment it must have been to see Bobby's face again, as young and beautiful as she remembered it. And then PapPap, Lorraine, Thelma, Charlie and Charlie Buck. We have a great team of angels watching over us! I look forward to the day when I will see her again, and I know she will have a ham sandwich, some pickles (cuz I love them) and some iced tea waiting for me. I will close with this-

She is Gone

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she's gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.