Seven days and three books later (two of which I read today) I am back in Atlanta after an emotional trip back home.
Last Wednesday, June 7, my Mama and Papa told me that I should get on the next flight out and go home because Nana wasn’t doing well – this was something we had been expecting and were just waiting for the right time for me to fly home. I had to change planes in Dallas and as soon as I got off the plane – around 3:10 Dallas time – I called Mama to let her know I landed safely and that I was on the way to get an earlier flight home. From the second she answered the phone and said “hi” I knew. I could hear it in her voice; it was the same tone she had last year when she called to tell me about Papa and Snuggles. She didn’t even have to tell me to look outside for a cloud – I already knew. Nana took her last breath around 3:05…even if I took an earlier flight I wouldn’t have made it.
I made the somber journey home; not really knowing how to react to what was going on. The next few days were spent crying and making plans. I wrote the obituary and my cousin and I wrote the Eulogy. I forgot how exhausting crying can be. I would be fine and then I’d see my dad get choked up and then I’d cry. I’d cry because my cousins would cry, or my aunts and uncles or even family/friends I didn’t know. I cried when I saw there was standing room only in the church during the funeral service. I’d cry becuase I’d see my Nana laying in the most beautiful coffin and it would bring back memories of when my Poppy died. I cried when I saw the Californians hug my family or when friends of my Mom and Dad’s showed up.
It will be weird to go to Nana’s House and not have Nana there. Chris and I decided that we will always call the house “Nana’s House” – it can’t be anything else.