Nan-Nan “Jeannie” – or Nanny as I’ve affectionately called her – showed me as soon as any child is intellectually able. Assured me that it was okay – even encouraged – to become “addicted” to [that] sort of thing. Showed me just how greatly the quality of life itself is impacted if self disciplined enough to listen to the many things most miss by breaking silences. How if blessed with such abilities you’ll come to learn of the universe speaking. And how rare and special the souls born with this ability truly are.
Whether it was snuggling with her under that blue afghan blanket – warm and cozy on the couch. And then falling asleep to the sound of “Scooby-Doo” playing on the TV. To spend another day with Nanny after having been drug out into the cold, brisk winter morning by my parents. Or, with her help of holding me up to pin/unpin the clothes from the clothesline. Perhaps even during naptime as a peaceful tranquility seemed to fall around her and my Paw-Paw’s bedroom. Leading my weary eyes into one of those childhood blissful sleeps as the warm breeze of spring flowed with ease through the open screened window.
It was also among the stillness – serene as it was – that seemed to surround Nanny and I and fell around the rest of the world. While the birds of all types put on their habitual shows filled with sweet melodies – just for us two. Gently swaying we moved with easy flow of the wind in the hammock out back. Grandmother and her beloved little granddaughter – in shade though still under a bright blue sky painted with sparse white feathers of clouds. We welcomed all the comforted bliss and fell into the hums of childhood summers.
My grandmother taught me to not only look with my eyes but most importantly – to see with my heart – the beauty of the ever encompassing world we live in. To appreciate nature and the outdoors. And more delicately how to quietly become a part of it. She taught me to not simply live on the bounds of this earthly realm but to open my heart and my imagination to all of the wonders and fantasies that may or perhaps may not exist. But not to question our rights to believe. To never be afraid or ashamed to argue that faeries & angels DO, in fact, exist.
Dedicated with special thanks & love to my grandmother, Regina “Jeannie” Welch.