Nan, wasn’t a woman with a lot to say, Nan was more of a doer. Her actions were her words a lot of the time. In a world where words and actions rarely match up, that made her a pretty remarkable woman. No one needed to tell Nan that actions spoke louder than words, that was just something she knew. Like how when I was would visit she would make pea soup because she knew that to me, nothing was better than nan’s pea soup. Or how there always seemed to be molasses buns because she knew they were my favorite. How every Christmas we got knit socks or mittens because she knew mom (Ruby) wasn’t going to knit them for us.

How aunt Myrtle, and aunt Madge got all the craft skills from Nan and mom (Ruby) ended up with none is quite upsetting for anyone who can’t get wool socks.  If anyone has any spare wool socks, I am taking donations, unfortunately the craft gene skipped over me and my sisters too .

But I digress, it wasn’t just Nan’s wool socks I loved, I loved her, deeply. Her unswerving calm, and quiet devotion, and the actions that told me every time I saw her that I was loved. But the moment I knew just how much she loved me is when I showed up on a Sunday evening with a Christmas stocking I was knitting for my mother for Christmas, well, I’ve already explained my knitting ability, so you can imagine the mess. I walked in to the kitchen, a disgraceful red, green, and white oversized tube hanging from knitting needles with a woeful look on my face. It was a few days before Christmas and I had no heel or toe. Well, Sunday was the Lords day, and I was asking her to finish my sock on a Sunday! Like I said, Nan wasn’t one of many words, but when the occasion called for it she had a way of saying exactly what needed to be said. She looked at me grim faced, shaking her head at me, and said, “Because it’s you and because it’s for your mother for Christmas, the Lord will forgive me.” Without another word she took that sock and in 5 minutes flat I had a heel a toe and a Christmas present for my mom, because that’s the kind of woman my Nan was, the kind who saves Christmas for her granddaughter, even on Sunday.

I am so grateful that Charlie and I got to spend time with her just before her passing. I’m so sad that I can’t be there with all of you to say goodbye.  So instead I’ll simply say, goodbye, to one of the most amazing women I have even known, I know heaven is rejoicing to have her in their ranks, and that she is looking down on us and smiling.