Nana Day

A couple days ago Evan was having a "Nana Day."  It's a day where everything is about Nana.  First he got hurt and wanted his Nana, then he woke up from a nap and wanted to shout "I love you" to his Nana.  It was really nice to know that his small 3 year old brain was not forgetting her, so reassuring that she made an impact.  Our day progressed and so did the "Nana" references.  Some things actually made him a little mad, like someone flashing the I love you sign in sign language.  How dare anyone else do that but him and his Nana!  Then came good getting ready for bed; my favorite time of day.  Evan was showering and knocked on the wall...and behold someone knocked back! What?!?!?!  Who could it be?!?!?  Right away Evan says it's Nana mommy! My heart melted and tears started to flow.  He really loves and misses his Nana!  He instantly started hitting the wall harder and yelling, "I LOVE YOU NANA!!"  He got a little irritated when she didn't respond and I simply told him she loved him too and he just couldn't here her!  It's these simple things that make me realize that my mom's impression was left on all of us no matter our age or understanding level! 

Her Voice

Sunday was like every other Sunday, which is fantastic!  We got up and we to breakfast, but afterwards we went to Banducci's Pumpkin Patch for our annual pumpkin picking extravaganza.  It was awesome!  Jeff and Evan were walking around while I meandered through the pumpkins looking for the perfect one to dissect when it hit me.  Yes that train of emotion that barrels through like it has somewhere to be but plants itself in your heart.  My mom would not see our pumpkins this year.  Well actually she will see them, but physically there will be no inspection of them. 
So while I walked I held in the tears.  "I am fine!" "I am fine!"  I told myself.  I then ran into a long time friend...not old because then that means we are old, but a long time friend.  In less than 5 minutes I was a patient of hers, even though she's not a physicologist, crying my eyes out. Seriously poor girl!
Finally I drug myself back to the boys and home we went.  Evan needed a nap and I needed a LONG shower.  I was thinking, which is always a bad thing, about my mom and all the things I miss.  And geez for a fast train why was it not leaving my depot already???  I finally got out and down poured more tears.  Why your wondering?  Well it dawned on me I couldn't remember my mom's voice.  How silly a thought, but in only a month I have already forgotten how she sounds.  Why are our memories so short in remembering something we heard daily for almost 30 years? 
Upon the realization I went and cried to my attentive husband, who was unable to produce words, but I was okay with that.  Finally the train was leaving and I had cried and felt all the woos of the day! 
I realize now that bad days are only here on occasion and I will have to work through them.  The only good thing is it makes me concentrate on something I loved so dearly about my mom!

Happy Birthday Mom

Deborah Lynn McCan was born on October 6, 1950 in Hollywood, California.  She was a month early and still weighed 6 lbs.  So yesterday she would have been 60 years old.  Wow Mom your old!! 

Yesterday was a tough day.  Even though my mom wasn't big on festivities for herself I was well aware of the fact that no more birthdays would be celebrated with her.  In her honor, and would have been against her will, we had grandma's famous tacos.  I know your thinking my ______ makes great tacos, and that I don't doubt, but my grandma makes THEE best tacos.  So we went over to her house and let her cook (not sure she wanted to but oh well right) and devoured tacos.  We tend to eat in shifts cuz it takes a while to get the tortillas ready and let me tell you those shifts were short and sweet.  We devoured every last taco we could!

My mom had the tradition of making the tortillas.  And by make I mean fry them in olive oil until they are crispy and ready for consumption.  This meant I automatically got the job by definition, from a mother to a daughter right?  My sweet Aunt Carrie always holds the plate while my mom fried the tortillas.  She walked up to me with the plate and wimpered.  It was the realization that my mom was no longer there.  It was a nice quiet moment for the two of us as all the taco devouring was happening.

With our tummies full of tacos and delicious Aunt Carrie desserts we sat and laughed about life.  The "young crowd" in the living room laughing about plane rides and an impromptu game of charades, while the "elders" talked politics and other much more boring stuff.  This dinner was quaint and exactly how my mom would want it, no hoop-la! 

So with that said Happy Birthday Mom!  I'm sure you did exactly what you wanted in heaven!