Happy Birthday, Nana Ruby!

A 95th birthday is quite an accomplishment.  In Nana's own words, when I asked her if one of her friends was her age, "Nobody is my age.  Everybody my age is dead!"  Ruby and I went to visit Nana this afternoon, since we weren't able to go to the big Grand America bash this morning.  (Maybe it was just the "Older Generation" invited anyway?)  Nana's phone rang off the hook the whole time we were there, and we weren't the only visitors, either.  I don't know what Nana's secret is for staying so popular after 95 years, but I do know that she has Oreos and Sweet's Orange Sticks for guests.  I'm sure it's more than the chocolate that keeps us coming back, but Oreos can't hurt!

Thanks, Nana, for everything.  You're every bit as much a star as when you played the lead in The Desert Song.  You're still everybody's beacon of light, shining example and ray of hope.  We love you!

Pictures for Laura

Laura, I love that picture of Nana and James!  He is such a wonderful guy, and a great violinist.  You're lucky to have such a perfect kid as your first for all the others to follow.  We had so much fun seeing you today and playing fiddles.  Glad James knows what he wants when it comes to violins.  We'll have to do it again, but next time, bring more kids!  We don't get to see you often enough, so any reason is a good one!  We love you guys.  Good luck with school!

Nana's Musical Influence

 Opa years ago with Jill, Christina, Dan, Krissy, Circe and David.  I think.  Is that right?

Sometimes when we visit Nana, the kids take their instruments and put on a little performance.  It's always nice to have a captive audience who thinks you're wonderful.  An added bonus is that Nana can't help but do a few numbers herself.  She has always been very, very musical.  She sang the lead in her high school musical, The Desert Song, and she performed all over town with her sister when they were young.  Ruby and Asenath had quite the duet career singing and playing the piano.  Nana Ruby is accomplished on the violin, piano, organ, guitar and mandolin.  On this occasion, she chose some pretty morose songs to sing.  My computer has no sound today, so I can't tell which one I uploaded, but I hope it's the one about the little children who get lost in the woods and die.  Click here!  We were in tears laughing.  Tragic!  Some of those Depression-era tunes are grim!

Even though my kids are all scarred for life because of the gruesome ballads Nana performed for them, I am extremely grateful for Nana's musical influence.  She makes music so exciting.  She always says, "Music can take you so many places."  It's true.  Music can be your best friend and traveling companion, no matter how far you go.

Courage

We like to think we know what life is, we adults who are making our way in the world, learning as we overcome each trial we encounter.  We think we have learned something and sometimes we think we know it all.   My grandmother, Ruby, is 93 years old.   I can't begin to chronicle a life as long and full as Nana's.  If I think I know anything, I have only to look at Nana to know that I have a lot left to discover.  There's hardly anything she hasn't experienced, good and bad.  As a result, she has a lot of wisdom to share, yet regardless of what sophomoric or trivial stage of life I'm in, she has always treated my life experiences with enthusiasm, as if she hasn't seen dozens of youngsters through college, marriage and baby raising.  I have seen her with a serene smile on her face listening to the complaints of young mothers.  She had five kids in five years, ending with twins, and she's been there, but she doesn't use her expertise to diminish our experiences.  Ptolemy must be about her 70th great-grandchild, but every time he visits her, she declares him to be something special. 

Nana Ruby has always advocated a healthy lifestyle, but at 93, as she says, "a lot can go wrong.  You're supposed to be dead!"  Recently, she's had some health problems.  As I was going about my artificially busy day, checking things off my inane list, amidst the sound and the fury of my life, I thought of Nana.  Whatever amount of energy it takes to see me through my day, Nana must have ten times that to see her through the hours of silence.  Recovering from a bout of diverticulitis that had her hospitalized, she is stoically fighting through pain without fanfare and alone.  She has plenty of people who call and visit, but at the end of the day, as she kneels to pray for each one of us, her children, she is alone with her pain and her fear.  "How will I get through this, and what if I don't?"  I can't imagine having the courage to confront that question.  In mythology, the hero always faces the ultimate challenge alone.  Yes, I have a lot to learn.  While anyone can do laundry and drive kids and figure out what to have for dinner, only the most courageous among us can face each day of their 93rd year saying with a smile, "This is nothing I can't handle."  Today instead of checking things off my to do list, I'm going to visit Nana and maybe learn something about being a hero.

93

Happy Birthday, Nana Ruby! Today Nana is 93 years old. I was lucky enough to celebrate with her and Coco and Xanthe at Marie Callendar's for lunch. For Nana's birthday, I tried to think of my favorite thing about her, and I guess it's her love for music. Nana's singing voice has a permanent spot in my brain. I can always recall the cheerful and energetic timbre of her voice when I imagine her singing. There was no time for singing today at lunch, with all the delicious food to eat, but Nana's lyrical voice carried a wonderful quality with everything she said. When the last pie crumb was finished off, Nana said, "Now when my friends ask me what I did for my birthday, I can tell them I had lunch with you." Nana Ruby has a way of making everyone feel special. That might be a quality more beautiful, even, than her singing voice.

True Gem

I've been thinking about the Christmas song, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, because it wishes a merry Christmas to "kids from one to ninety-two." Nana Ruby turned ninety-two today, so technically, she won't qualify for the song next year! That's quite an accomplishment, aging out of Merry Christmas! The thing I love about Nana is how, every decade or so, she comes right out and says she doesn't like something. Back in 1979, we were listening to a record of whales "singing." I thought it was cool, but Nana laughingly declared it to be "dumb." Then, circa 1992, I was sitting next to Nana at the opera when she leaned over and whispered, "This is so STUPID!" I'm still laughing about that one. Maybe she was right!

Today when I asked Nana what one of my cousins is majoring in, she replied, "Oh, world domination or something."

And those are the three things Nana has said in her life, that I know of, that weren't 100% positive and uplifting. But they were still funny! I love Nana, the peaceful and orderly feeling she cultivates in her home, her love and talent for music, how she loves each of us completely. Nana prays for every one of her progeny by name every night, and there are almost 100 of us, including in-laws. One day, soon after we brought Xanthe home, I was in Nana's bedroom and saw on her nightstand a little scrap of paper that said one word: "Xanthe." It's a crazy name and she wanted to remember it just right for her prayers. Knowing that I have a grandmother who prays for my family and me by name every night makes me feel safe and loved, and inspires me to be as good as Nana thinks I am...or knows I could be. If she thinks any of us are less than perfect, she never lets on. She always says, "You're my favorite...besides the others!" I'm Nana's favorite! Besides the others!...

Comfort Food

The Rubies

Nana's girls

The whole time I was growing up, all of my 24 cousins gathered at my Opa and Nana's house every Sunday night. As a youth, I absolutely depended on those gatherings to ground me and make me feel that the world was as it should be. A big part of the comfort factor was the food. I knew for a fact that there would be Aunt Marla's lemon dessert and Nana's chocolate chip cookies waiting for me. I knew the cousins would watch Silver Spoons and Punky Brewster and the grown-ups would gather in the pristine, white living room to catch up.

I was reminded of Nana's chocolate chip cookies this week when Marlene told me that she is careful to make cookie dough whenever Jakey comes to her house. I love that she does that, because I know how disappointed he would be if he opened the fridge and Grandma's cookie dough wasn't there. To this day, I remember one Sunday when Nana bought cookies at Albertson's and put them in the special ZCMI shirtbox she usually put her homemade ones in, nestled between the cool sheets of waxed paper. I remember tears stinging my eyes and feeling unreasonably betrayed and devastated.

I don't know why it was so imperative that the cookies and the lemon dessert always be the same. I felt that way about my mom's bran muffins and homemade bread and my grandma Golda's roast beef and toasted cheese, my grandpa Bill's Election Day chili and the Dutch food Nana made for Opa. I was even comforted by Slurpees the summer my grandfather died. He died on Memorial Day, and we were all a little bit lost that summer. Almost every night, my Aunt Tricia drove my grandpa's four grandchildren to 7-11 for a Slurpee, which we'd take to the cemetery. It sounds strange, but it gave us a new routine to cling to in the face of change and loss.
Away from home in college, I'd find myself buying buttermilk for the bran muffins or calling home to get the recipe for Mom's heavy, whole wheat bread. I never missed an election day without chopping the onions and celery for Bill's chili. When my brother left for a mission in Brazil, my dad inexplicably packed over 24 grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for him to take on the plane. He sliced the cheese, grilled each one and carefully wrapped them individually in napkins and tin foil. I guess he was thinking that those sandwiches would bridge the gap between the continents and the two years Traj would be gone. Many people on the flight to Brazil enjoyed one of my dad's sandwiches. Jack Spratt bread, cheddar cheese, a thick slab of ham, a little Heinz chili sauce...

Food connects us to each other and creates memories that nothing else can. This summer, the kids and I and Coco have taken a couple of pies to Nana's house to sweeten our visits. Every day, somebody asks hopefully if we can get a pie and go to Nana's house. Of course we can! How easy is it to hop in the car, stop by Marie Callendar's and spend an hour at Nana's house. When the storms roll in and the leaves fall and the kids go back to school, I hope they'll feel as comforted by their memories of summer pie as I do by my memories of Nana's chocolate chip cookies.