My sweet Nannie passed away a few days ago and while no one could say it came out of left field, I feel like death still always feels like a curveball. Suddenly a staple in your life is gone and the way you think about the world gets completely rearranged- from annual traditions to check in routines. While we grieve, I’d love to tell you a little about my grandma.
My mom’s mom lived on the most beautiful piece of land out in the countryside of Georgia. She and my Pawpaw built their home in the late 1980’s on land that had been in the family for decades and “the farm” (as we have always lovingly referred to it) has been a staple in my life ever since. It has hosted every Thanksgiving and was the backdrop of a lot of fun childhood days filled with walks in the woods to the creek, shooting shotguns, back of the truck evening rides to look for deer, many a game of hide and go seek after dark, and endless Monopoly games and Marbles games on summer days that seemed to stretch on forever.
My Pawpaw passed away when I was a freshman in high school and my Nannie stayed in their home, watching deer, tending her garden (best spinach you’d ever eat), and volunteering regularly at her church. You could say Nannie led a quiet, country life and we’d all be blessed to know such a life. Visiting her always felt like a pause on the busy fast paced world we all sometimes feel caught in. Commitments and warp-speed living would move aside as soon as I pulled up the gravel drive, being replaced by back porch swings, conversations, story telling, and homemade vegetable soup.
Nannie was a petite woman with a kind heart, yet would make us chuckle with what we eventually deemed “Nannie-isms,” blunt statements of opinion given without concern of how they’d be received. Honestly they were always quite endearing given their contrast with her generally quiet nature and kind heart.
Nannie enjoyed looking into family records and mapped our lineage back to John Quincy Adams, which is a fun fact the girls enjoy sharing whenever a president is mentioned. Nannie made the best homemade dill pickles, a commodity fought over at every lunch table, and her pear preserves are fixed in our childhood memories as the very best biscuit topper. She kept her deep freezer full of mason jars stocked with homemade soups and meals. Growing up during the depression engrained in her a waste-nothing mentality.
When I had a pet pig as a child, Nannie and Pawpaw built a pig pen out back to house Sammy when we’d visit, complete with a little “Pigloo” for her to sleep in. When we were kids, Nannie and Pawpaw would take us to the nearby river where we’d float down in innertubes to escape the Georgia heat. One of my favorite childhood memories was Nannie and Pawpaw taking us out in the field, setting up a bed in the back of the truck, and letting us lay there, looking up at the sky to watch a late night meteor shower.
Nannie was a talented seamstress in her day and I still have doll clothes she made for my dolls when I was a girl. She made my mom’s wedding dress and for my wedding, she made my garter from fabric taken from my mom’s wedding dress and added tiny pearls to it from David’s mom’s wedding dress. It was my favorite thing I wore on that day.
Even into her late years, Nannie would walk to the pecan tree regularly and always had bags of shelled pecans in the freezer ready to gift to us. Nannie always kept pictures of her family proudly displayed on her fridge and her giant bible ready for reference on her coffee table. Nannie prayed for us and for others regularly, always strong in her faith.
We will gather later this week to honor her life. In my mind I picture Nannie and Pawpaw reunited after so many years apart and that makes me smile. But you’ll be missed down here, Nannie. I’m grateful for all the years that I got to spend with you; until we meet again.<3
