I was cleaning and organizing paperwork in my classroom last week and I came across something I wrote back in April when I attended a workshop for my teaching job. The workshop was about strategies for how to teach writing. We actually tried out a lot of the strategies in the workshop. One of things I ended up writing really touched me and I still tear up when I read it. I really don't remember what the prompt was but we just had to free write on the prompt for a set amount of time. Here is what I wrote.
"I just lost my Nana. Well really it's almost been a year. She died on Mother's day 2012. How has it almost been a year already? The house she lived in with my Granddad just sold this month. I spent 36 years loving to visit that house. I hope I always remember the sound of the front door as it slammed shut. The sound of my Nana puttering around in the kitchen late at night or working at her desk while watching TV. The sound of my Granddad whistling to the birds outside while he worked on his flower beds. The sound of the train in the middle of the night. The smell of rain on the prairie through the open windows during the summer. I miss my Nana and Granddad and I will somehow miss the house on East Beaver almost as much. I really didn't realize how much until I spent my last day in it last August."
When my Nana passed last year I didn't write about it on here. It was just too abstract and painful for me to deal with. I'm still not sure I've really realized that she's gone. She lived in Hawaii most of the year so I didn't see her very often, so sometimes it still feels like she's here but just on vacation (which she loved to be on). But she is gone and there is a big hole.... and when I stop and think about it, I realize how much I miss her. She was hilarious, fun, accepting and loving.
"I just lost my Nana. Well really it's almost been a year. She died on Mother's day 2012. How has it almost been a year already? The house she lived in with my Granddad just sold this month. I spent 36 years loving to visit that house. I hope I always remember the sound of the front door as it slammed shut. The sound of my Nana puttering around in the kitchen late at night or working at her desk while watching TV. The sound of my Granddad whistling to the birds outside while he worked on his flower beds. The sound of the train in the middle of the night. The smell of rain on the prairie through the open windows during the summer. I miss my Nana and Granddad and I will somehow miss the house on East Beaver almost as much. I really didn't realize how much until I spent my last day in it last August."
When my Nana passed last year I didn't write about it on here. It was just too abstract and painful for me to deal with. I'm still not sure I've really realized that she's gone. She lived in Hawaii most of the year so I didn't see her very often, so sometimes it still feels like she's here but just on vacation (which she loved to be on). But she is gone and there is a big hole.... and when I stop and think about it, I realize how much I miss her. She was hilarious, fun, accepting and loving.
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