grandmother epitome of incomprehensibility "Nana" can be an informal word for this. In Ghana, it's something different, a gender-neutral honorific used before someone's name, but my blathe about that reminded me of names and grandmothers. "Nana" is almost like the name I used for my grandmother. "Nanny," my parents taught me to call her, as if to distinguish her from another one called "Grandma" or "Granny" - but no one like that was around. My mother's mother died before I was born. Mona McScottishname, giver of red hair, psychiatric nurse and then feared perfectionist of a mother, with a soft side or at least soft pastel drawings. I don't know if I'd have liked her. Sometimes I'm afraid not. From what Mom's told me, it seems like she expected too much of her, would bring up how well her BROTHERS were doing in school, go, Why can't you be like them...? That sort of shit. When Mom got to college, she started getting high marks, but maybe didn't get over the burden of those expectations. Passed some of those insecurities down. Not that she was all "Kirsten, you must major in Mathematical Medical Technological Law! Become a famous archeologist dentist marine biologist!!" No, at first she wanted me to be a visual artist, like I could be a reincarnation of her mother - a freer version, pursuing art as a career instead of a hobby. But that came with expectations for me to excel in whatever I did and at the same time not stand out too much...be creative, but not too rebellious or hyper or disorganized or queerly, clearly, weird. But yes. Mona McScottishname also had two sons, my mom's aforementioned brothers, one of whom had a kid - Lia, my only cousin on my mom's side. She didn't have a "Grandma" either; her mom's mother was always "Bubbe." This is Yiddish for grandma, but at first I thought it was her actual name. In my mind it was spelled with a Y, though that spelling made me picture a male American baseball player...as if Babe Ruth had become Bubby Ruth. (He does that sometimes.) So I'd accidentally claim her grandmother as my own in asking things like, "How's Bubby doing?" Did I call her that directly? I don't remember. I saw her several times, including at the bat mitzvah, but I don't remember the things Lia does: stories of her dancing in an unexpectedly lively way for eighty, before or after getting a little tipsy and going to greet people at different tables - including her ex-husband, who was annoyed she was talking to him at all. Me, I don't remember if I saw any of that. I have a clearer impression of seeing her in the stairwell of Lia's old apartment. She's dead now, but she lasted for longer in Lia's life than Nanny did in mine (claimed by metastatic cancer when I was 8, she 88). Maybe that's why I put a "Grandma" in my novel - she's my narrator Carol's grandmother, alive and well when the kid is 13. Wishful or wistful thinking: Tamra/Tammy/Grandma understands Carol when her parents don't, is patient with her, won't get angry or offended except when Carol (sort of) accidentally hits a sore spot... But I had people who were like that for me, just not all in the same person: aunts, uncles, many teachers. 240927 ... raze only one of mine is still in the world. her husband and sons are all gone, but she lives on. i haven't seen her in almost a quarter of a century. i can't recall ever feeling much warmth from her, or anything that would pass for an expression of love. like daughter like mother, i guess. not that she was cruel to me. there was just the feeling that something fundamental was missing. she did buy me the suitcase i used to shepherd my life back_and_forth between two houses until i made up my mind to take back what was mine. she cooked for me after picking me up from kung fu classes i never practiced for. her spaghetti didn't look like anything special, but there was magic in the sauce. two small scenes tinged with levity endure. her teaching me how to dance the macarena to chicago's "anyway you want" on christmas day. and the way we said goodbye, with the same instructions always served up to compensate for how tall i grew while she stayed the same size: "on your knees when you hug your grandmother." 240928 what's it to you? who go blather from