Before the blog...

I'm going through old emails in my work email repository. There's crazy things in there from the past 12 years. I found an email from my mom from shortly after my grandma (Nana) died, when I was still on maternity leave with Nolan. I wrote this for after the funeral. Because I want to be able to find it in another 10 years, I'm copying it here...

The View from 1010 Barland Street

I remember walking into Nana’s house and smelling peanut butter cookies, I remember the cupboard where all the toys and games were kept, and I remember playing catch through the hole in the wall between the living room and the piano room.

There are so many memories of Nana and her house. Because of her, I can find the back bedroom, John’s room and the davenport without a map or explanation. Because of her I know that “Hump” and “Jumped up Jerusalem” can both be holy, and I know the meaning of both “Daresn’t” and “Oh piffel.” Also because of Nana, I know the power of praying to St. Anthony when I can’t find something, I can recite the Weather Channel’s scheduled programming for any hour of any day, I can tell you all the mass times on the Catholic television station, and I’ll offer things up for the rest of my life.

We all have our favorite memories of Nana’s house, as well as our own favorite “Nana-isms” that are from within 1010 Barland, but the view looking out of that address is pretty amazing as well. Because of Nana, I learned that life can be hard and rough, but that love and loyalty, even after 51 years, can be a lot stronger. Because of Nana, there are 59 amazing people that never would have been. Because of Nana, I know people that live on Guam and in Wisconsin, Illinois, California, Michigan, Washington and Maryland, and I’ve heard ghost stories of Marie living upstairs. Because of Nana, I know a golf pro, marathon and triathalon competitors, and a black belt in karate. Because of Nana, I know the joy, sadness and strength of a mother who needs to take her son to the hospital too many times because of a scary rare disease, and I know how sad it can be when life is snatched away at too early of an age, but more importantly I know how much joy and love can be shared and felt in a short 24 years of living. Because of Nana, I know an actuary, a fireman, a teacher’s aid, an engineer, a salesman and a meteorologist. I know fathers and mothers, and  the love and strength of family.

Nana lived at 1010 Barland Street—it was her house. But it was also so much more than that, and still is. The view from 1010 Barland Street is a legacy that, because of the example Nana set, there are many, many of us who know how to carry it on.

I love you Nana, and me too.