Watch the Tots!

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The first major death in my life was my maternal Grandmother, Wilna Poteete. This was the first time I dealt with the emotion of grief. Nana literally was my world when I was a little girl. Our lives revolved around her coming to visit or us going to visit her. When she fell ill, I was a Junior in High School. The reason I remember this is that she was able to come to Christy's high school graduation, but she was not alive for mine. This was devastating to me. When Nana got sick, Mom had to leave us with Dad and go to Alabama to take care of her for a few months. She had heart disease and had had a heart attack. While Mom was gone, Christy was in her first year of College at Wayne State University in Detroit, so she was gone all day. Dad worked from 5am to 6pm down at Highland Park for Chrysler. Needless to say, I had a lot of time on my hands to think. Sure I had a lot of after school activities, but I was by myself a lot. One of my "chores" was to cook dinner, or at least get it started. These were not gourmet meals people - and one night I was cooking tater tots before Christy and Dad got home. I put them in the toaster oven, and proceeded to fall asleep. About an hour later, Dad and Christy woke me up and were like - 'the tater tots!' They were reduced to hard shell hollow center hockey pucks. We had a huge laugh. I think during that time we ate out at least three times a week. This is where I got my reputation as a horrible cook. I don't think you can equate warming up tater tots to cooking.  
Mom ended up bringing Nana back up to Detroit to live with us while she recovered. She never did recover. She had to be hospitalized again, and my last memories of her were of a very thin, tired woman who looked right through you. She was NOTHING like the rubinesque, jolly, fun-loving lady that I had known my whole life.  I happened to be training to sing at state choir competition, so I would come to the hospital and sing my Italian Arias for her. She loved them! But she thought I was mom. She eventually fell into a coma, and I begged Mom to let me come see her. Mom did not want me to. I will never forget that because Nana was not herself and it completely freaked me out. Christy did not want to come. Now I know why some parents do not let children go to see their loved ones when they are really ill. Mom did not want this to be the last memory I had of Nana. I have so many good memories of her love. After she passed away, I used to ride my bike to the field behind the middle school. I would just lie in the grass staring up at the sky watching the clouds go by and I'd think of her. It is amazing how these souls touch us and never leave us even long after they are physically gone.

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