Evendays

My Nana died in the early hours of Monday morning, April 30. Mom had flown out to Little Rock then gone on to Searcy during the day on Sunday. She was able to see her mom, be with family, and be present when Nana died. It all happened peacefully.

When Sister 1 and I were young, every two Summers the family made the drive from California to “Nana and Pappy’s”. (Who establishes that order anyway?) While Pappy loved his garden and crossword puzzles and crushed ice, Nana would can peas and other vegetables, fry us chicken and bake chocolate pies. She’d regularly slip us a quarter or two for brown derbies.

Whereas Pappy made sure you knew you were his favorite, Nana would tell us she loved all us grandchildren the same. Then she’d hold us tight and usually find us something good to eat. In fact, one Thanksgiving during a college break, she fixed a two pound ham for Pappy and me to eat AFTER Thanksgiving dinner. It took all afternoon and evening, but we ate it.

Some of the “earliest fish” I ever caught were with red worms she’d put on my hook. While the men were out fishing for bass, Nana’d row me out a little ways and I’d fish for brim, always pulling in a few.

I never lived near Nana, but I felt close to her. She died in the Lord, a woman of faith, covered by grace, which means she will live. And that’s not only comforting, but it’s true.