Nana used to make peanut butter and chocolate buddy bars.
She gave me my first car, a powder blue Ford Taurus. Which may or may not have broken down in the middle of the road. Twice.
She listened to country-western tapes she had recorded in Florida and brought with her to Virginia, something I never could quite figure out.
She wore a green animal print jacket to our wedding.
She was, as she would say, full of piss and vinegar.
She was from coal mines and hard times.
She lived with us for many years, baking buddy bars, making Mexican casserole every Monday night, “teaching” me how to drive (which was when I drove her around because no one wanted to tell her she couldn’t anymore), telling my dad he should’ve been a professional comedian, and loving us all.
She will be missed.