What a "Memory Maker" !

On Thursday, my Nana died. She was 80 years old and one of the most amazing people I have ever had the opportunity to meet, to know, and to love.
My Nana was my mom's mom, and she lived in Idaho Falls almost all her life. She has lived in the same house all of my life. Let me tell you a little bit about what that house and that woman meant to me. (p.s. I love and adore my grandpa, too, but this post isn't about him.)
Because I lived in Florida until I was 10, and Texas until I was 16, I only went to Idaho about every two years. I went to visit my grandparents in a house filled with an unmatched calm and loving spirit and with a sweet and comforting smell that hasn't changed at all over the years. I am a little scared for the day it does.
The summers in Idaho Falls were filled with a backyard of perfect grass, a Nana who was more excited about the 4th of July than anyone on earth, and Banana Creamies stocked in the freezer in a garage lined with Red Shag Carpet left over from a 1970's remodel.
When I was as little as four Candice and I slept in Nana's bed (Grandpa was relegated to the room next door on these night) and had midnight snacks of cantalope. Behind us was a "princess" phone that we LOVED to talk on.

We spent the days going to museums, playing high-ho cherry-o, and watching The Parent Trap.
Nana made us perfect breakfasts and made us feel like we were just perfect.
Maybe my favorite memory of Nana is getting to fly all by myself to Idaho when I was 12 years old. Oh, I felt so grown up. I spent time with grandpa and the horses, slept in late every day, tried on Nana’s wedding dress, and then Nana & I went to SLC ALL BY OURSELVES. We stayed at Little America, went shopping, and wore matching navy blue polka dot dresses. Which we hadn’t even planned. There is nothing like having Nana all to yourself, and I loved every minute.
Just two months ago, I had my last phone conversation with Nana. In true style, she exclaimed, "Oh, darling Christin! It's so wonderful to hear your precious little voice.....We're so proud of you....oh, that's just wonderful...."
This was how every conversation with my Nana went.
I believe it is from her that I gained my love for every holiday. As any of my former roommates know, I love to decorate for Christmas. It is an event. I now realize that not everyone decorates the entire house, involves the entire family, and makes it at least a three day affair. My nana had us re-enact the Nativity and read us The Polar Express whenever we were lucky enough to spend Christmas together. My mom did the same. My roommates and friends have now been invited into the tradition.
I even throw easter egg hunts for my roommates and have egg decorating parties because my Nana and my family did that. Even in 2008. (Um, we're not young anymore.)
Vacation is exciting to me possibly because invitations to family reunions were sent out a full year in advance. And you'd better be there to have FUN!!
Nana got excited about good parking lot spaces "What luck! What Luck!" And anything that could possibly be something wonderful to remember, Nana would look at you and say, "Isn't this a Memory Maker!?!!" That meant trips to the farm, awesome shopping trips, great reunions, and especially late night talks.
Nana just loved being part of a family that Loved Her. And we did SO MUCH.
One thing we could always count on with Nana is leading a parade of flags consisting of every willing participant at any large family function and especially at the 4th of July. Also, whenever we came to visit, a flag was flying in the yard.
Her funeral was a lot like another family reunion. Enough so that I kept looking around waiting to see where she was. It was so weird to not be able to see her so ecstatic to see all her friends and relatives.
I gave her life sketch, including the favorite memories of all 13 grandkids. It was quite possibly the most heartbreaking thing I've ever done. And also somewhat wonderful to see all the grandkids more united than we've ever been in our love for this person.
After the service, we all lined the sidewalk holding little American flags, waving them gently as the grandsons carried her casket by. Everyone mostly held it together. Except, me and Candice, who sobbed.
But I think we inherited that cry from Nana, too, so we didn't feel too guilty.
It was a beautiful service for a beautiful woman.