Late Afternoon

One Thanksgiving my husband wanted to go lie on the floor in his grandmother’s (Nanny’s)  formal living room because his back was bothering him from a childhood tree swing incident. I looked for him and laid on the sofa. It was twilight and there was even a lighted Christmas tree.

There are five “grands” and I’m honorary. They started showing up and lying around and we told stories for an hour or two. Silly stories of their childhoods. Lights were off, it was calm and peaceful.

His cousins told him a girl was coming by to ask him to marry her. He was probably around eight years old. One cousin rang the doorbell and hid while the other sent him down the laundry chute!

Stories. That’s what lives are made of. Nanny asked me why I asked her son Steve about a possum a week before he died, a few weeks ago. He took my husband’s phone and said Happy April Fools’ Day! I replied that he could not do anything to me because I was 1,500 miles away. “Yes I can, there’s a possum in your house!”

I don’t know that those ephemeral moments and stories will continue, but that twilight time is one to remember. Sad for Nanny, losing her Steve. I think she may let go, now that she knows she doesn’t have to care for him. That will be a great loss and a sad day in many lives. Steve was kind and funny and came up with an issue every holiday with which he needed immediate assistance, from railroad tracks to video to computers. Nanny is kind and loving with every family member. She’s Nanny to me. Dee

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