80 Years of Bittersweet Memories

On Sunday, my Nana aka Cora Ray, celebrated a momentous day. She turned 80. If you know my Nana in the slightest, then you will understand our fears as my sister, my aunt, and I began talks of a surprise party. She is quite stubborn when it comes to making a spectacle of her. After much busy hoopla, a beautiful night was formed. After inviting her siblings and closest friends and family we were able to spend an entire evening showing one of the greatest women I have ever known just how appreciated she is. My Nana isn't a woman who is easily described. I have lived within a mile of her for my entire 26 years. It seems as I look back over every wonderful and tragic event in my life, she is there. Born in Blowing Rock in 1930, my Nana tells stories of tourists, cooking, and summer work. I love hearing about her younger days, before her life was overrun with demanding grandchildren. To describe my Nana as selfless is so small. I have never, ever, stepped into her house without being offered something tasty to try or a couch to cuddle on when she knew I was under the weather. I laugh every time I take Jamie to her house to eat because her array of diverse foods is always a surprise. He is always in awe. You see, she cooks every meal with the likes and dislikes of each family member in mind. No tomatoes in my pasta, no onions in Casey's spaghetti, no nuts in Marissa's side of the cake. It seems the harmony in my family, though too often unstable, have been built around my Nana's kitchen. No matter what point in your life you are in, her house is the same. I remember the same priceless hospitality the day I came to her house after losing everything in a fire as I did the day that I carried my Charlie into her house for the very first time. Her consistency is of the"old world." No one has that anymore.

As I stood there watching her face on Saturday night move from person to person with tears in her eyes, I thought, "Does she enjoy this, or is she so unselfish that she wishes we hadn't done it?" I loved each moment with her that night. It wasn't until this morning that I opened my thank you card, "Thank you all for my gift. Thank you for your hard work, and for caring about me." I realized nothing, no party, no meal, no gift, no card, no birthday poems, will ever EVER come close to repaying the chocolate, homemade birthday cakes, the hugs when I was breaking apart, the laugh when I got hurt, the last minute missing ingredients for my dinner, the warm stove when the power was out, and ......the love she's given me for 26 years. Each time I pass by her house and see Charlie point and scream, "Nannnnnnaaaa." I smile inside. Her love has truly passed through generations. Happy 80th, Nana!