WWND

Quite often on trips when we're deciding whether or not to stop here and there, whether or not to eat at the nicer of the restaurants, whether or not to make the trip in the first place, my wife and I look at each other and one of us will say, "What would Nana do?"

Nana, pronounced nanay, was my great aunt, my maternal grandmother's sister. My oldest cousin couldn't say Annie Rae, he said "Nana" and so it was for generations. Nana earned a college degree,at the turn of the 20th century,  was an educator (a principal in Birmingham), a successful businessperson and civic leader in Enterprise, Alabama, and an incredible aunt to my siblings, my cousins and me. Nana was generous with her time and money, she taught us basic manners and etiquette. Because she read newspapers, magazines and books she clued us in on both what was going on and what was about to be going on. I wondered at times if she was clairvoyant (without knowing that word), but she just read a lot.

Of all the gifts Nana gave us, perhaps the most valuable were the trips she took us on. These trips might include other adults and always included some combination of the cousins depending on the destination and the mode of travel. I actually have a few memories of the trip to San Antonio, Texas that just included the two of us when I was five years old.  My uncle was stationed at Ft. Sam Houston.  Nana decided to go see him and for reasons I'll never know took me with her. I remember very few details about the trip, but I remember our stop with her friends in Louisiana when their granddaughter kissed me. And I remember the Alamo (get it?).  There was the trip to Saint Augustine. If there were not already plenty of attractions in Saint Augustine, we stopped many places along the way including Weekie Wachee Springs, Silver Springs, and a memorable waypoint in Tampa.  My mother talked for years about her Billy Goat Salad in the outdoor cafe across from the sponge divers. And there was a drug store that spanned an entire city block.  Nana bought some orange marmalade preserves that we ate the rest of the trip. Nana was about extravagance--she left no experience stone unturned.  She wanted us to see it all and experience it all. Since she never married and "had a family of her own", we were all her children--her prized possessions.

The trip that was most memorable and pivotal for me was the trip to Chattanooga, Tennessee just before I started the first grade. Besides the main attractions on Lookout Mountain, Rock City, Ruby Falls and the Incline Railway, the mountain itself was magical for me.  Many of the streets and attractions involved the words fairy or fairly land and so it was--the habitat of fairies.

When I was a teenager Nana encouraged me to take a trip to Oklahoma with my brother when I thought I had better things to do.  She said, "He's your brother. Just go." Just wow.  My brother and I still take trips together.

When my nephew was small he called where we live "Georgia-Tennessee".  That describes our locale extremely well. To meet our friends for brunch today we drove from Ringgold, Georgia through Chattanooga Valley, Georgia just across the line to St. Elmo, Tennessee. The restaurant where we met them is less than 100 feet from the ticket booth and entrance to the world-famous Incline Railway. It was a perfect day to sit outside, warm temperature with a cool breeze. And the man playing classic soft rock on his acoustic guitar was perfect for the occasion. I was sitting with my back to the Incline and facing an ice cream store across Tennessee Avenue. After we had had plenty to eat and plenty of enjoyable coffee and conversation at the restaurant, I wondered if everyone would consider some ice cream and thought, "What would Nana do?"   I made the suggestion; we crossed the busy street and within a few minutes were sitting outside eating ice cream. This time I was looking straight up the tracks of the Incline Railway. In any conversation I am simultaneously trying to listen, but also processing thoughts.  Both are always vying for my attention. Depending on the conversation and the thoughts, that contest can tilt either way.  While eating my chocolate fudge ice cream in a waffle cone, my attention was tiling toward the Incline Railway and my greatest of aunts Nana. Just as well, with the traffic noise, and the music across the street  I couldn't hear very much of what was being said in the first place.

It wasn't just the fun stuff she let us buy or the places she took us, Annie Rae Pierson was just a wonderfully generous person. She had a deep guttural laugh that would light up a room. Nana stayed bright and sharp into her late eighties. At first the same stories she told over and over were a little amusing. Over time as we fully understood what was going on, there was absolutely nothing funny about Alzheimer's. I remember her last words to me in the nursing home in Enterprise. We had stopped in on our way to Florida to say goodbye. I had learned that I could connect with her through the old family trips. She called me "young man" and never believed I was the little boy in those stories. After talking and laughing, the nurse had asked me to step outside. When I came back in she had no recollection of the conversation a few minutes before. If I had had any way of knowing her question meant so much to her, I would have lied.  But I didn't have to. When she asked me, "Young  man, is it still morning?"  I looked at my watch and with God as my witness it was five minutes til noon.  I said, "Yes, Nana. It's still morning."  She sunk back into her pillow and smiled as if she'd seen an angel. And I made my exit.

We have the opportunity to fly to San Diego in a few weeks to spend time with our family. In some ways it's not the best time to for us to make the trip. What would Nana do?  "Thanks Nana. You have a way of reminding me what really matters and who really matters.  And I want you to know that I ate that chocolate fudge ice cream on a waffle cone in your honor today. The Incline Railway hasn't changed all that much over all these years,  but thanks to you I sure have."