A Saint: Lost on Earth...Gained in Heaven

I've never met anyone with the birth name "Nana".  I believe there's a reason for that.  Nana is not a name that is just freely given, but a name that is earned.

It's earned by cooking lunch for dozens of kids, grandkids and great grandkids (even a few great-great grandkids) nearly every Sunday for decades.

It's earned by picking me up from elementary school in her blue Plymouth Acclaim and letting me ride on "the hump" (the armrest between the two front seats) without a seat belt.  She'd be thrown in jail for that these days.

It's earned by making sure that everyday after middle and high school (before I could drive) that as I walked up the driveway from the bus, there would be a honey bun appetizer ready for the microwave, a Totino's pizza in the oven and vanilla ice cream ready to be perfectly mixed with Nestle Quik powder.  Not the healthiest after school food, but hey, she was a grandmother right?

It's earned by letting me help her fill the Lord's Supper grape juice cups at church and then allowing me to drink all the leftovers.

It's earned by enduring more personal tragedy than any one person should be able to handle, but still being able to laugh at nearly every situation that comes your way.

It's earned by being a near perfect representation of what a Godly Woman should be.

In all honesty, my faith in God has waivered at times in my life.  If after I die, there is a question and answer time before going into Heaven, I think I'll ask if my Nana is in there.  If a true Saint, in my eyes, like Nana didn't make it, I'm positive that I don't deserve to be there.

I've never met anyone quite like my Nana.  Even after getting 31 years of time with her (only a third of her life), it doesn't seem like enough.  I'm going to miss her for the rest of the time I have here but I do know that someday I will get to see her again.

I love you Nana.