Glimpses of Nan

My grandmother entered my body this week.

I am wandering around the grocery store parking lot looking for my van and clicking the alarm button on my keys. I must look deranged because when I run into my friend she tells me she was wondering who that crazy woman was before she realized it was me. I explain that we just bought a new van a couple of weeks ago and I don't recognize it yet. It's a grey/green color and blends in quite well with the other vehicles. But "oh", I tell her, "look, I found chocolate covered Peeps and I can't wait to try them". She looks at me vacantly. "You're so cute" she says. We chat a bit more, she walks away and leaves me to continue my search. A few minutes later, I'm inside the van and open a peep. It's soooo good and this little chocolately bit of heaven makes my day.

My mind glimpses an image of my grandmother. Oh no, I just did a Nanny. The fact that I don't remember where I put the van isn't the biggest issue here. It's the big deal I made about the chocolate covered peeps. Nanny was always talking about food. If she went out for lunch, she would explain in detail what she ate, how much was on her plate and how big the piece of pie was for dessert. She would use her hands to show me. If she bought a new candy, she would call me and tell me about it, again in detail. Poor Nan I would think, her life is so slow.

Earlier this week my daughter and I were talking on the phone, as we do every day. I told her I had to cut the conversation short so I could get ready for my doctor's appointment, which was an hour and a half away. She giggled. "You sound like Nanny". My grandmother would make a day out of getting ready for a doctor's appointment or a hundred meter trip to the bank. She would place her purse by the door, do her hair, put on makeup, don her perfume, sit in "her" chair and watch the clock. Sometimes for hours.

My grandmother was one of the biggest influences in my life. We had a close relationship and she taught me more than she will ever know. Did I ever think I would become her? No. Absolutely not. I am more independent, I drive a car for one thing. She never had her license and was the traditional, obeying wife to her husband, which I strive not to be. But she created a life that suited her and she was happy. She played bridge, bingo, did crossword puzzles and had many friends who adored her. She lived to be 93 and only suffered a couple of days before she died. She lived right, for herself.

Perhaps I am identifying with her more these days because I am getting older and the little things are becoming more important. Or maybe I'm just slowly going crazy. Who knows? The fact that glimpses of Nanny are now being seen in me can't be all bad. The woman lived a good life and she was happy. Because she was happy, those around her received the benefits from her being that way.

I am now resigned to the fact that perhaps a new phase of life is upon me and that's okay. So bring on the good life and chocolate covered Peeps!