Amazing Grace.

This is a different kind of post. I'm feeling a little down today and just to warn you, this blog is very self indulgent.

I don't know why, but I've been having these really stressful dreams about my Nana lately. She passed away last year and I was devastated to lose such a beautiful force in my life. The truth is that I had been missing her for a long time. Long before she left us. Even so, the loss of her life felt like being hit with a ton of bricks.

Nana and me at my college graduation.

I was lucky enough to have lived 30 minutes away from my Nana for most of my childhood. She attended many of my birthday dinners, all of my graduations, including college which I know she was really proud of, and my wedding. I think that my wedding was the last time she really got to see her entire family, and she whispered in my ear that I had taught her something. I'll never know what that was, or how little me could ever have taught HER something, but at least I know that she was truly happy that day. She not only had a profound impact on my life but on my parents' lives as well. She and my dad disagreed about many, many things, but she loved him dearly and I think she really lit a fire in him to find things that
he was passionate about.

My handsome father and Nana.

She had been suffering from these little stroke like occurrences in her brain called TIAs. I never actually looked it up because it was too painful to learn about this evil thing that was taking over her mind. She was so confused and lonely and most of the time didn't understand who most of us were. Although, the last time I saw her, she knew my face immediately and said I had become so beautiful. (Which is funny because I have been feeling quite the opposite for the past five years.) In other words, she knew that she knew me..but she didn't know anything about me. She didn't know my husband or my daughter. She actually told my daughter to shut up a few times because she was whining. I thought it was pretty hilarious because she always did have a short fuse.

Always full of joy. Three of our family angels, Peter, Paula, and Nana

Nana's actual name was Grace. And no name could have been a better fit. Her personality was larger than life and she had a great laugh to go with it. She was a feminist and did quite a bit to help the women in her community. If you went to her with a problem, she never turned you away but she also didn't put up with any crap. Luckily, I never was on the receiving end of her fury! (I recently learned that one unfortunate man who was on that receiving end was none other than Clint Eastwood.) She founded the Professional Women's Network of the Monterey Peninsula and wrote for the Carmel Pinecone. She was an accomplished writer and artist and loved nothing more than to watch river dancing and Sound of Music. She was a fierce Irish American woman brought up in Queens and eventually moved out to California to follow her son, my grandfather, who moved for business. She became a second mother to my grandma, a grandmother to 5, a great grandmother to 15+, and a great-great grandmother to I believe 2 during her lifetime. One of those great-great grandchildren was my daughter Gemma. I wish she would have been "all there" when she met Gemma. She would have been so pleased that she had a great-great-granddaughter. When I was pregnant, she always told me she hoped for a girl ;). And who can forget that this woman loved cats. Some say to a fault, but I say she just had so much love to give that she needed someone to give it to in her tiny house atop that hill in Carmel Valley. Her best friend, more like soul mate, Paula lived with her in that tiny house for something like 30 years until Paula passed away. I think the pain of that loss was so great for my Nana that she starting hoarding cats to fill the void because she and Paula had loved having cats together.

My stepmother, Laura, Nana, and me.

Nana was a spiritual woman; a self professed Christian that didn't believe in hell. She just couldn't stand the thought of judging people; this woman could forgive like no other.  She had friends from every background you could think of and never once thought to label them or judge them according to her own beliefs. That was one of the things I loved most about her. I have told my Nana about some truly awful things that I've done, and at the end of every single conversation I still heard, "Jilly, I love you baby." I can still hear it now. She made every single person feel like they were the most special person to ever walk the earth. I especially knew this was true when so many people--complete strangers to me-- came to me after her service and said how special she made them feel and how much she loved them.

Blowing out the candles, holding her son's hand.

I feel guilty because my Nana always encouraged me to write and I never took her as seriously as I should have. Now that I have found my calling in being creative, I understand what she saw in me...a little bit of herself. Everyday I realize that I am more and more like her. I'm starting to find my footing in this world and I'm doing what is right for me, no matter what anyone else thinks. She would be so incredibly proud of this little nothing of a blog that I've got going on here. She'd act like I was writing for the New York Times.

Dancing with my mom, sister, and me in Carmel Valley.

Where these negative feelings are coming from, I can't say. Maybe it's just lingering grief, maybe it has to do with events surrounding her death that were painful, or maybe I feel guilty because we haven't spread her ashes yet. I promised her one day a few years before she died that I would someday spread her ashes in Ireland. I don't know when I will ever have the money to get over to Ireland to do it, but I will be damned if I don't keep my promise. She never let me down.

Grace in all her beauty on my wedding day. 

I often feel like she is here with me, and sometimes I speak out loud to her when I'm by myself, or write her letters. Shortly after her death, my daughter and I were driving along an empty road and out of nowhere Gemma said "Hi Nana!" My daughter was less than 2 at the time and had only met my Nana twice, mostly knowing her from a picture on our refrigerator. She said, "It's Nana. Hi Nana," again and that was it. It certainly gave me chills, but it also made me think that maybe she hasn't quite left us yet. Maybe she's trying to tell me something. I never would have believed this before, but I don't know how else to explain these thoughts and dreams. Until I figure that one out...

 I love you Nana. And miss you. I hope I've made you proud.

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

With love,

jilly