Dear Nana,
Somehow it has been almost two decades since the last time we touched hands. I will never forget you lying in the hospital bed fighting to go home. As much as I wanted you to fight to come home to your family earthside, I knew deep down you were hoping to return home to Jesus. Dreaming of being reunited with your one true love, Papa.
Your heart yearning for all the beauty heaven had waiting. Your decaying body ready to be whole again. Your broken soul hoping to be healed forever.
You were the first person who introduced me to Jesus. You would talk about your conversations with one another and the miracles you witnessed throughout your life. At first, I thought you were a little crazy. I didn’t know how you could talk to someone you couldn’t see. I didn’t understand all the stories you would share with me. But Nana, I still listened.
You planted the seed within me all those years ago. And ever since I was a little girl, my heart knew there was something special about you. Now looking back, I know it was Jesus shining through you. I wish I could return the favor and share my testimonies with you. Deep down, I wish I still had you on this side of Heaven as not only my Nana but my sister in Christ too.
People say memories fade, but mine haven’t when it comes to the ones we shared. I will never forget spending overnights with you and my cousin Kelli. You would give us endless snacks, and we would play games together. One of our favorite games being “Aggravation,” which our family has always referred to as the “Marble Game.” Someone handcrafted your game board, and it was nothing short of stunning.
When you passed everyone was hoping they would be the one to receive this beloved heirloom. So much so that my mom ended up gifting me and my siblings each our own handcrafted “Marble Game” one year for Christmas. I hope it pleases you to know this tradition has fondly continued with the younger generations within our family.
I’ll never forget watching Father of the Bride and Home Alone with you on repeat. Or when you lived with us after your first stroke, and you were still able to walk with me to school. It’s hard not to miss the sweet and tender conversations we would share. When you moved over near the movie theatre, I remember picking you up once I could drive, and we would go to the movies and eat at Olga’s for lunch. I remember grocery shopping for you and trying to decipher your tiny, mangled cursive to determine exactly what you desired.
I’ll never forget the warmth of your hugs or the smell of wintergreen on your clothes. I’ll never forget how you made the best desserts for our holiday parties. I’ll never forget you were the glue that fiercely held our extended family together.
I often miss you, Nana. I wish you could see how grown up I’ve become. I know I caused you a lot of strife when I was younger. I had a silly sense of humor, and you were usually the brunt of my jokes. I’ll always remember you telling me you had a strong heart after I pushed you a little too fast down that hill in your wheelchair. I’m grateful I didn’t cause you to have a heart attack that day of course, and I apologize now for my pre-teen twisted sense of humor. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I know I was the cause of your embarrassment countless times as well.
You had every right to be mortified when I stuck pictures of Santa Claus under the door of one of your potential suitors inquiring if that was him. To my defense, he did resemble Santa, but to your defense, I was a stinker, and you had every right to be upset with me. Even though I could be silly with you, at the end of the day you always forgave me and couldn’t help but ultimately laugh at my ridiculous shenanigans.
I catch myself thinking of you more days than not. Wishing you could have been at my wedding, met my husband and your sweet great-grandsons. Wishing you were given the opportunity to set foot in my home so you could see many of your trinkets sprinkled throughout. Wishing we had more pictures and videos together. Even though every time I hear your recorded voice to this day my heart simultaneously swells and aches.
You might be physically gone, but your legacy still lives on. It lives on through me and every person who has ever been blessed to have met you. You’ve touched and continue to impact countless lives. Oh, how I wish you could see how I’ve grown and continue to grow not only as your granddaughter but in my faith as well.
Thank you for being a positive constant in my life. Thank you for loving me since the day I was born. Thank you for introducing me to Jesus. Most of all, thank you for being my Nana. You will forever shine in my eyes.
Love,
Casey
by Lauren Eberspacher 
by Jen Feener 
by Tiffany Yoder 
