As I went into Nana’s bedroom last night, she was grabbing onto her bedrails. I couldn’t help but think I was about to encounter another sleepless night. As I walked towards her bed, Nana started getting very emotional and talking very fast (I couldn’t understand anything she was saying; she’s been talking poorly the past couple of days). She stretched out her arms for me and was crying. I leaned down to give her a hug and ask her what was wrong. She kept pulling me closer and tighter and wouldn’t let me go… She said, in between wimpers, “I’m happy.”
I smiled and told her I was happy too. I wanted E to come into Nana’s room, because it’s important for me to share these moments (as I know I could never “recreate the moment” with words; I’d do the moment zero justice). It’s as if she read my mind because she met me at Nana’s bedside, greeted by outstretched arms, welcoming her in for a Nana hug.
The tears kept flowing with a few sweet Nana giggles thrown in the mix. After the hugs subsided, Nana made sure that we were all happy. She pointed at both of us individually and asked, “are you happy?” It sounds like such a simple question, one you hear every once a in a while. This version of the question seemed so complex as if there was such meaning behind it.
Once the conclusion was made that we were all in a good place, Nana turned her attention to God, thanking Him.
It’s nice to hear Nana talking about The Big Man. With church/religion having played such an important role in her life, it’s heartwarming to know that she will always have her faith.
“We should sing. Should we sing?”
Nana’s a goofball.
E told Nana that she’s not a good singer. Nana nodded and said that she isn’t either. I told Nana that it would be best to leave the singing to Papa .
Nana nodded and said, “I guess so.”
signed, nana’s bodyguard
nana_duty 