Nani, Papa and All the Silver Pennies

Today, I started thinking about Nani and Papa. About how lucky I was to be able to spend time with my great grandparents when I was growing up. And not just some time, but whole days while my dad was in school and my mom was working. They had an old house. A really old house with high ceilings from probably the early 1900's. The yard in back was mostly dirt. But there were these stands of bamboo trees everywhere in which I could hide and explore and make adventures like only a four year old can.

Nani and Papa were big kids themselves, I think. Nani always had a twinkle in her eyes as did Papa. You know, she loved Papa so. Her family, I'm told a wealthy English family, threatened to disown her if she married Papa. She married him anyway and was disowned. They even passed within weeks of each other. They say Nani died of a broken heart. Ever wonder where I get my hopeless romantic streak from? Look no further. What could I remember from being only three or four years old? Plenty. Nani and I would play Chutes and Ladders and Ants in the Pants for what seemed like hours. Papa dug a few holes in the dirt in the back yard, cut down an old wood shafted putter, gave me a golf ball and delighted in watching me play. Nani would read to me from her worn copies of All the Silver Pennies and More Silver Pennies. And when it was time for a nap, there was the huge feather bed that I'd practically sink into and disappear.

Even after Nani passed on, she took care of me. As the story goes, I was, understandably distraught when she passed. I was only four years old, what did I know of death? I cried continuously. But then, one night a few days after, Nani came to me. She sat in a chair in the corner of my room and we had a lovely conversation in which she told me everything was going to be ok.

You'll forgive me if my eyes are a little watery, won't you? Sometimes a boy just misses his Nani and Papa.