I think I was around 14 when I started going to Nana’s house every week. I rarely cooked for myself, so she would always invite me over for dinner on nights my parents weren’t home. That became a weekly tradition that went on for about 12 years, right up to this year. We stayed up late into the night, talking about anything and everything, and I got to see more of the caring person she was. I learned so much from her over that time.
I noticed that she was a very good listener. She seemed to love hearing us talk about our problems and aspirations in life. She seemed so selfless to me as well. Even when she was in the nursing home and in hospice, she was always asking about my sisters, my nieces and nephews, and even our dogs. She always seemed more worried about everyone else than herself, even when she was in the worst condition of all of us. She was always giving to different charities to try to help people and animals too.
I remember thinking that sometimes she almost seemed naively nice, but as I get older, I view that as more of a strength than a weakness. It may be easier to let this world mold you and beat you down, to turn you into a pessimist that starts seeing the worst in people before you see the best. But she was the opposite of that. She always had hope in people and always gave them the benefit of the doubt. She saw the best in people first, not the worst.
After all those years, all the food I ate, tea I drank, and games I played with her were all fun and good, but the real treat was just getting to spend time with her. I loved her so much, and I’ll miss her, but I’ll never forget her.