Nana Days
It’s been a weird and wearying week of watching, worrying, warning, waiting, wishing, and wondering about our world. Who are we? Where are we going? Why is this happening? What are we doing to ourselves? When will it all stop?
The barrage, noise and vitriol of political ads has ceased, thank God. Yet, the 24/7 news(?) channels continue their game of baiting us into an “us and them” mentality, feeding the fears of a citizenship based on half truths and outright lies. Families who voted on opposite sides of the political spectrum face prospects of lonely Thanksgivings, fearing that coming together is impossible in this atmosphere. That’s worrying.
And yet, the world continues to spin.
For me, one of the reasons it does, is Wednesday. Nana Day.
Nana Day started when Cora, my first granddaughter was born. One day a week, I would take her for a one-on-one day of fun. It was our time to bond, to play and for me to spoil her like my Nana did me. It was a day in the middle of the week to reset; to remember simple joys, to take a break from all stuff of the world, the noise of politics, an electorate and a pandemic.
Cora is now almost seven years old and doesn’t get a Wednesday Nana Day anymore. She’s in school, where friends and activities fill her time. I still grab a weekend day when I can, and last weekend, we got her for a delicious sleepover full of pizza and milkshakes and laughter. Cora is all about action and questions. She revels in “farm work” with Papa, petting horses, feeding cows, gathering chicken eggs and belting out Taylor Swift tunes atop a bale of hay as a stage. She likes to fish, and “fall” into the stream filling shoes with water and mud. She’s a rock skipping, soulful songstress full of insatiable energy. Pure heaven.
For now, my Wednesdays are all about Logan, who is four and full of everything fun. She brings an entirely different kind of energy to my week. Logan is thoughtful and careful and demonstrates characteristics of an old soul. Compassionate and always aware of other’s feelings, Logan approaches the world with a true awareness of others around her. Her happiness is found in quieter pursuits.
This week, the first Wednesday since November 5th, Logan brought her watchful, witty, warmhearted self to play. The worries and the noise of the world disappeared the second her teacher buckled her into my car at preschool pickup. Grinning with anticipation, we talk about our plans for the afternoon. We have some laundry to do and then we need to make Nana bagels, and, of course, Logan, we can also make brownies. “Are you hungry,” I ask, knowing full well that the lunch her mother packed with such care is half uneaten in her lunchbox. “Can I have an ice cream sandwich?” she asks. We all know the answer, don’t we?
The next few hours of Nana day are peaceful and joyful. We cook and she licks a lot of bowls. We eat warm, everything bagels covered in salty butter right from the oven. We load the laundry and she adds the soap. Finally it’s time to break out Candyland. Ah, the simple pleasures. When I play with Cora, she laughs with evil delight as I pull the card that sends me back to the beginning. We both play with great animation and fierce competition, and when Cora loses, she’s not happy. Logan watches me carefully. She makes sure that I am ok if I choose a card that sends me back. When she is lucky and jumps spaces, she tempers her excitement to make sure whomever she is playing against feels ok. “Don’t worry, Nana. Maybe you’ll win next time. Let’s play again. You can go first.”
It’s time to wrap it up. Her musical theater class begins in twenty minutes. We say goodbye to Papa, wrap up some brownies to take home. She pets the dog and says goodbye to him with a gentle pat on the head. She promises Papa she will be back. When we get into the car she asks for some Taylor Swift. I know what she wants, because she and I belt out all the words to our favorites. We start with “Our Song,” and then while waiting at a light, I sneak a peek at her in the rearview mirror, as the lyrics we both love begin in “Love Story.”
“He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said, “Marry me, Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone, I love you and that’s all I really know, I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress, It’s a love story, baby, just say, “Yes.”
She’s full of passion, loud and happy and sneaking her own peek to look at me. In that one second, all the weariness, waiting, wondering and worry slips away, all thanks to Wednesday Nana Day.
Thanks for reminding me about simplicity, compassion, caring for other’s feelings and love, Logan. See you next week.