Dear Nana

Dear Nana,

We in an abstract manner got to say goodbye. I did the hulu dance you taught me as a child. I didn't know if you saw my performance. You appeared to be sleeping. I wished you would awake there was so much I wanted to say. I had thought you would live forever. You were such a strong, smart women . But that night about four hours after my dance you slipped out of this world leaving me numb. But I knew you had left so much of you with me. When life gets difficult I remember your drive.

I remember when I was a teenager, going through your old clothes in your attic . In my mind that is how I wanted to dress. Your jackets and skirts were both business like and fashionable. While in high school I wore your black velvet jacket as my fall outer coat. When I grew older and worked in the bank, I bought suits that I thought you would wear . I also brought the manners you had taught us to my job. But banking was not my goal, being a bank teller did not teach me the skills I needed for where I wanted to end up. You had owned your own business. I often wished I had had you to consult with. You could have taught me so much. I then went to a clothing store, no not as a buyer. I tried but none of those positions opened up. Again I used you as a role model. I looked like I had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Dress for the job, I seemed to attract the parents instead of the young boys, I then changed my attire hoping to reflect the audience I was trying to sell to. Young boys want comfort.

Now a days the work environment has changed. Comfort has taken the role of fashion, and professionalism. Not just for young men but for adults as well Some employees work at home over their computer. But I think that today you would still look professional in a casual way.

I read book after book about how to start your own business, but the hands on experimentation I could never push myself to do. I had planned to go to South America to buy sweaters and other crafts. I had the tickets had taken the time off, but according to the travel books you did not need the shot, so of course I did not get it . but when I asked my mother to take care of my cat because I was going to Ecuador, she told me horror stories about some lifetime illness people had gotten from traveling with out the vaccinations. I canceled the trip, two days before I was scheduled to leave. Years later I went to Peru , with no shot, and got diarrhea, but no life long illness. It was really sort of funny, the day before I came back, I was running to the bathroom as fast as I could in a attempt to make it to the toilet in time. I didn't make it. I had to go clean up the floor. I got a trash bag to put the soiled toilet paper in. In Peru you can't flush paper down the toilet. On the flight home I just prayed. God listened. The diarrhea held off until I made it home. I want to do more of that, traveling with a group of people. Connecting with the people who live there is more enriching then going to all the tourist spots. In fact the one day we went to the tourist spots is the day I enjoyed the least.

Sometimes I wonder what you would have told me, if I had asked . One of your grand children followed your footprints more exactly. She has her own business and has a big house that her family come and visit at Christmas. Other cousins were buyers at department stores. I have sort of drifted away from the family. When Ma died , I no longer got the weekly updates. I loved those holidays at your house. I know you were married but you still had so much independence and determination. I wanted to be just like you. Although I am sure you would have supported me if I explored my own strengths. Now that I am retired I think about my older dreams. I think you would tell me not to give up. You fought till the end. It would have been nice if the end would have been with more family than just my mother and I. I know that family was probably what you valued the most. At least as your grandchild I felt your love, your respect for others, and the emotional strength you gave to us.

Love

Antoinette