what I learned from my grandmother

My grandmother died on Monday. The funeral was today. It was, appropriately enough, grey and rainy, with a bitterly cold wind.

Even though Nana drove me crazy sometimes (ok, most of the time), I loved her a lot, and I will miss her more than I can say. I've been thinking about this quite a bit lately, since I arrived here to stay with her a month ago and it was confirmed that Nana had congestive heart failure and she obviously wasn't going to be with us too much longer - she had a deep and enduring influence on me in somewhat less than obvious ways. I didn't get up and say anything at Nana's funeral, mostly because I figured we should try to keep it short for the many elderly guests in attendance (and the stinging, wind-whipped rain and numbing cold of the cemetery mausoleum cemented my decision). But if I'd been forced to say something, I probably would have mentioned a few things I've learned from Nana over the years:

- There's a story behind every thing.
Nana's house was chock-full of stuff (still is, actually - and now it's all mine to deal with - but that's a post for another time), and she could tell you a story about all of it - what it was, when she got it, where she got it, if it was a gift, who gave it to her, how much it's worth, the whole deal. Her things were precious to her, just as my things are precious to me, not just for their monetary value, but for the memories they held. It's not just a bunch of stuff - it's reminders of people long dead, links to bygone eras, tangible connections to the past.

It's largely thanks to Nana and her stories that I'm so interested in my genealogy, and that I really, truly understand that, once upon a time, the way people lived was very different from the way things are now. You really used to be able to get a Coke and see a movie for 20 cents, total. Back in the day, you could get KDKA from Pittsburgh on the radio here in Virginia, but you had to share the earpiece to the radio with your whole family - only one person could listen at a time. In colonial days, you locked your tea in a chest like the one Nana had on a table in her living room, and you served it on tea tables like the ones she used as end tables. They also used to serve salt out of little bowls, with tiny spoons.

I could go on - just little, random stuff like that. Things that kids today have absolutely no clue about, Nana explained to me. Sure, it was a little irksome, as a kid, to have to be so careful around the museum pieces that adorned my grandparents' living space - but it taught me respect for other people's things, and that some things are worth respecting and treasuring. Not just for what they are, but for the stories they prompt, too. Nana was a storyteller extraordinaire.

A few other quick little things I picked up:
- Never leave the house without looking good
You never know who you might run into.
- Don't be afraid to do anything for a laugh
It's more fun to be the goofy one. :)
- Have lots of pictures of your loved ones all around the house
They'll make you smile whenever you see them.
- You can never have too many spoons in the kitchen
- You can never have too many pairs of shoes, either
I'm serious, my grandmother was like the Imelda Marcos of her retirement community. And a shoe fetish? Is totally something I got from her.
- Wear your good jewelry and use your nice china and silverware often
What are you waiting for? Life is short.

For all that we had very different personalities and perspectives on life, I will always admire Nana's style and attention to detail. The kind of relationship she had with Pop-Pop is what I aspire to in my marriage, and the standard she set in her life is what I aspire to in terms of gracious living. She made it all look easy and fun. If, by some miracle, I manage to become even half as charming as she was, I will really have accomplished something.

I love you, Nana. Rest in peace.