Nana's Warmth

As I watch the light creep slowly over the fence, then across the yard and up the stairs of the porch. I waited with anticipation as the warmth of the light finally reached my legs. That warmth always puts me at ease like that of a soft blanket covering my body.

Those small moments of peace were made even better whenever Nana would come to sit with me. She would smile at me and ask how I was doing. She would run her hands through my hair and then sit down in her favorite rocking chair on the porch. We would sit and watch the bright ball in the sky slowly come over the horizon. Nana said this was called “The sun”.

After a while, we would go take our normal walk around the yard. She would look at the pretty plants that she had planted throughout the years. She would check for any unwanted crawly things and unwanted plants that she called weeds. Sometimes she would have me help her dig those up when she was unable to. Then she would pour water on them and sometimes on me which she would laugh at. I loved her laugh. We would walk around for awhile before heading inside to eat with Papa.

Later on, we would go back to sitting outside and watch the bright ball go away and watch another type of bright ball come up. Nana called this ball “The moon” and the little lights around “The moon” were called “Stars”. They were not as warm as the other ball, but they were comforting in their own way. When Nana began to doze off, I knew it was time to head in. I would call for Papa, who would help with getting Nana off to bed. She was clumsy when she was sleepy.

This was how the events of each day would normally play out. Sometimes it would change if someone came to visit or if they had to leave to go run what they called “errands”. Sometimes they would take me with them and sometimes I would stay home. I was happy with this life.

One thing that would also disrupt our normal day was when the outside would get cold. We would stay inside mostly and snuggle together for extra warmth. Despite the cold, Nana would still make time to look at the plants and even though I hated the cold, I stuck with her.

However, this last winter was colder than most of them and something changed with Nana. She would still go out in the cold, but this time she would begin coughing. First, there were little coughs here and there. The more we went outside, the worse her coughing got. Something felt wrong. The moment she would begin coughing, I would pull on her to convince her to come inside. Sometimes she would follow and other times, she would wave me away.

Then one day, she went out without me and ordered me to stay inside. I watched from the window that overlooked the yard because I was worried. There was an unsettling feeling growing inside of me and I did not know what. This feeling grew more intense as Nana began coughing furiously and then she fell to the ground. I yelled for Papa who came down and saw from the window that Nana was on the ground. We both rushed outside and tried to get her to wake up.

Everything that happened after is blurred in my memory. Papa rushing back inside, the trucks that make those awful noises came, and lots of strangers came pouring in. Papa pulled me away and let me stay inside. After a long while, they all left, and the house was quiet. It was quieter than it ever had been that I became scared and I began to cry. Papa finally came home but Nana was not with him. Where was Nana? Papa looked at me for a long moment and then threw his arms around me. I could feel many emotions falling off of him with the biggest one being what I believed Nana called “Sadness”. Then he said “I’m sorry. Nana isn’t coming home.”

What Papa said did not sink in until a few weeks later. There were more people than usual coming to the door to see Papa to say things like “Sorry” and give him hugs. I would become alert to every knock in hopes that it was Nana, but it never was. Some of these people would come in, some would even run their hands through my hair, but it never compared to when Nana did it. After a while, I finally understood that Nana was gone. I understood I would never feel Nana’s touch or hear her laugh.

As the cold finished its stay, I stayed on the couch under the blanket that Nana and I shared. I was content staying here but Papa would make me eat even when I didn’t want to. While I loved Papa, I didn’t know him like I knew Nana. She was our connection and now that she was gone, I did not know how to interact with him. Sometimes Papa would try to get me to go outside with him, but I could barely stand to be out there. The cold was a reminder of that night. This led me to feel sadder. The cold seemed to stay forever along with the dark clouds outside.

Then one day upon waking up, I saw something familiar coming through the window. The bright ball. The light had made its way across most of the floor. I got off the couch and stood in that light for a moment. Even though it was subtle, I could feel a little of the light’s warmth. For the first time in weeks, I wanted to go outside. As I sat on the porch, it was then that I could feel the full familiar warmth of the bright ball’s light. This brought me a type of peace I had not felt since Nana. Papa eventually came out to sit with me and to my surprise, he began running his hands through my hair like Nana. While the touch was very different, the comfort of it was almost the same. I eventually laid my head in his lap, and he continued his hands through my hair. Papa let out a heavy sigh “I miss her, too, boy. I miss her, too.” He patted my head “You’re a good boy.” I could not help but wag my tail a little at this. That is what Nana would say to me, too. She would always tell me how I was the best dog anyone could have, which was a title I did my best to wear well. A title that I would wear my best for Papa, too. We stayed there for what seemed like forever, basking in the warmth of the bright ball called “The sun” and the memory of Nana’s warmth.