Today’s a day that I’ve been dreading for a while… my Nana finally passed away. It’s been a mix of emotions this morning since reading a Facebook comment (yes, I found out via a public comment from my Great Aunt on one of my pictures from Indonesia) and a follow-up email.

 

How do I start about Barbara?

 

My Nana was a hard ass… in the nicest way possible. She was raised with an abusive family, only to marry an even more abusive husband. This is not the ideal way to live, but it only hardened her resolve and led her to become such a strong independent woman as a result. While she had a vicious tongue (that I for better or worse have inherited at times), she also was one of the most caring people I’ve met in my life. She just had a funny way of showing it. Growing up with my Nana was not easy… I lived a fairly sheltered life where I wasn’t allowed to do much other than go to school and come home (with the odd play date). My Nana saw the destructive path my mother went down and did everything in her power to prevent the same from happening to me. As a result, she was extremely over protective. I eventually had to leave this environment to make something for myself, but have never forgotten what she taught me; morals, respect, and the foundation of hard work.

What hurts the most right now is I didn’t end up speaking with my Nana for just over 7 years after leaving. She would write me letters to my university, sent a few care packages, but otherwise we didn’t interact during this time. I eventually found the courage to call her back in the summer of 2014 and everything had changed. My Nana had started experiencing symptoms of dementia, and while she remembered me and who I was, she wasn’t grasping that time had gone by. I told her about my life in Toronto, about living with my girlfriend at the time, and what industry I had decided to work in, but she would quickly forget that I was 24 and not 16 anymore. I ended up visiting her during the holidays of that same year, and it was alarming that not only could she not recognize me but would talk about me like I wasn’t there. Since this time, my Nana has been hospitalized twice due to her lung cancer as well as injuries of just getting older. I went to visit her a few times over the last two years but it became increasingly difficult for both of us as it would just agitate her since she didn’t know who I was (specifically – this version of me) and would be upset as the last memory she had of me was leaving her at 16. I also found it incredibly difficult to see what was once such a strong, healthy woman sitting in a hospital bed, barely able to move, and not being able to understand what was going on around her. I made the tough choice to not visit her this past Christmas break as a result.

In remembering her, I have nothing but the world to owe her for where I am today. My Nana had the option of living any way she wanted to. Instead, she chose to sacrifice the rest of her life to ensure mine could flourish.

I’ve been saying my entire life that I never grew up with parents, but am now I am realizing I’ve been wrong this entire time. My Nana was my mother, my father, and everything else that comprises of what we call ‘family’. While I wasn’t able to physically say goodbye to her… she’s left an impact on me that I am never going to forget.

Nana – thank you for everything. I love you.