The House That Built Me. (I Love You Nana S.)

"I bet you didn't know, under that live Cosmo, my favorite cat is buried in the flower bed?" Maybe it will be a hit.

Probably not but I am really trying to cope with losing my Nana S. Oh she's not gone yet, but we're slowly losing her. I feel like someone is reaching into my chest and slowly squeezing my heart until I can't breathe anymore. She was so much like a mom to me for so many years. And she kept Evel for so long that he didn't want to leave when it was time to go home (which was a repeat of my childhood). It's not that I wanted to leave him there....it's that she DIDN'T WANT TO GIVE HIM BACK!

But now I have to go to a nursing home and see Nana. And she calls me Sheryl. Every time she speaks to me, I am Sheryl (*my mom, btw). She knows Evel and she remembers sending him to get snacks out of the vending machine at the local apartment complex, but she associates me with my mother (yeah, freaking scary on so many levels) and yells at me for dying my hair dark (my natural color). She is currently living my nightmare.

Nana has Alzheimer's. This is my nightmare because I watched Pappy S lose every bit of remembrance he had of everything that he held dear (and he called me Sheryl EVERY TIME he saw me). The man that was there for me just as much as my dad was (I had a very screwed up childhood, don't ask) just kind of faded into that old guy in the chair in the corner. He was there, but he wasn't. No one really paid attention to him (without my Aunt's occasional accusation of him smelling like Limburger cheese because he didn't bathe properly). I tried to see him, but it was easier just to ignore everything that was happening. I am still angry with myself for it.

So Pappy went into a "home" because Nana couldn't take care of him (and she really couldn't. She's the most stubborn woman that I've ever met and she just couldn't do it at her age). And we went to see Pappy on holidays. And birthdays. The times that we had to see him. And I wish that I would have seen him more but I didn't. He died a few days before my sister's birthday and we went through the funeral, which tore the family that I knew into pieces. It's hard to watch a Nana that you love argue with an Aunt (K) that you love and not be able to do anything but witness the demise of a step-mother/daughter relationship go to shit because Pappy didn't know any better while he was alive.

So now we're on the same frontier. Nana is half batty. She knows but she doesn't. There's a slight recollection of the people that are around but she really doesn't know the extent of why she is where she is and that she will never go home (which is not my doing and I believe that she should be told this fact. Anyone ever seen Fried Green Tomatoes??). She has a house but Crazy Aunt Sis is in no shape to keep her there safely and prevent any kind of accidents that may happen. So what does that mean for Nana?

That means that Medicare will only cover 100 days in the nursing home where she is currently shacking up. So her 100 days are almost up. That means that Uncle B and my Mama are going to have to start selling off Nana's assets to keep her in this place (I would call it a hellhole, but it's really not that bad, even though her roommate plays with dolls). This is what is really ripping my heart out.

For whatever reason, I've always pictured myself living in my Nana's house. I hate the school district and I would never subject any of my children to that hell, but I just thought that we would have a happy little family in the house that I grew up in and my kids would love everything that I loved as a kid.

I remember when Nana and Pappy added the addition onto the house. I slid down a hundred rock piles and helped haul stone in my little, red wheel-barrow while everyone built up the dreams of my grandparents. I wanted to join in everything that helped to create the life that they were building for all of us. And I did...

But now, I feel like it's all slipping away. And it fucking hurts. A lot.

I love my parents, but Nana was there for me through everything. She is my rock. She's the one that has always given me advice when I needed it and now she has no idea who I am. I am my mother according to her. I think not.

And I know what "starting to sell her assets" means. It means that the home that I loved and wanted to raised my children is will be gone soon. I'll have to sit and watch someone auction it off or watch people vie for the best price when they have no idea about the sentimental value that is attached to that house.

To whoever gets the house, Christie (the cat) is buried in the flower bed in the front yard. I would like to transport her before you buy the house, just so I know he remains will be taken care of in the future. There is a Paw-Paw tree somewhere in the backyard. I don't know exactly where that is either (or what the hell a Paw-Paw is), but Nana did. It's worth asking her about if she still remembers. She also cut down 2 cherry trees, a pear tree and an apple tree. I'm sorry that you missed out on the wonderful pies that were made from the fruit of those trees.

Basically what I am saying to whoever buys the "house that built me" is that you should be thankful. Thank your lucky fucking stars that you are buying a house that has given me all of the happiness that I can remember when I was a child. Yes, I was divided between my parent's house and my Nana's house, but Nana's always won. I would see Mama or Poppi and I was ready to stay with Nana for another week or two. I always came back. I would cry NOT TO leave. This house was my life.

So all I am asking is that you love it the same as I did. Love the awful mint green walls in the living room because my Nana wanted it and she never knew the word "compromise" (not sure where I get that from...). Love the fact that Nana never hooked up the water in the tub in the "master bathroom" because it was unnecessary because there was running water in the other bathroom. Love the fact that you will have feral cats skanking around your house because my Nana used to feed them. She cared for all of God's creatures (including the possum and the skunk that I used to pet as a child) and so should you.

If you can't do these few little things, then you don't deserve her home. It's not a HOUSE that, it's a friggin HOME. And it was our home. And about 80% of the happiness that I remember as a child was experienced in this HOME. It's hard to fathom losing the love that I experienced from Nana and Pappy and the house being sold will be the final nail in my coffin. The thought makes me sick.

So again to the person that buys this home, if one day I show up on the front porch in tears, please mind me (sorry, no sarcasm on this post, just complete realization and absolute shock since I've recovered from the denial). I am simply there for a memory. I want to collect as many as possible before it becomes a foreign territory. Sometimes I think that I can just wrap myself up in the horrid green carpet and be safe forever. But I'm not stupid. The only thing that would do is suffocate me. I need to gasp for air and try to get on with my life.

Easier said than done. Whoever said "It is better to have loved than lost than to never have love at all" should be punched in the throat. That really do not know what love is.