In memory

For those of you who are close to me and my family, you know that last Tuesday, February 25, my Nana passed away.  I received the word last Sunday night that she was given only 24-48 hours to live.  She had stopped eating, which if you've worked with the elderly, typically signifies the body is starting to shut down.  I was devastated. 

After a restless nights sleep, I woke up Monday morning debating whether or not to travel home if anything were to happen.  I continued through my normal day of work where thankfully I am blessed to be surrounded by children who will forever be able to cheer me up no matter the circumstances.  After arriving back to my apartment Monday, I skyped my family to let them know that I had decided to travel back to the United States.  It was here where we decided it was best to book my flight now, so I could be home and recovered from jet lag before the inevitable funeral.

I left Priego that night at 1:45am. I flew from Malaga, Spain to Paris where I had a four and a half hour layover.  For those of you who have ever had the pleasure of long layovers, Charles de Gaul airport is one of the best places for it.  I occupied my time with a Starbucks coffee and my Kindle sitting in chair that one could have found at the beach.

 

Airport lounge chairs

 

I should also mention that the ceiling above me was made of glass and the walls were covered with plants so it was almost like being in a far away place.  

At some point, it was time to board my next flight to the United States.  I was fortunate enough to have luck on my side and the seat next to me was empty.  This is the best for long flights because you can sprawl out without having to worry about the other person.  And trust me, I sprawled.  I took advantage, and full on laid down in the two seats I had to myself.  Using both blankets.  And both pillows.  Oh and I used both TV's too.  Unfortunately, I was only able to sleep about an hour on the flight. So most of the time I spent catching up on some American films (Bridesmaids, The Great Gatsby, Lee Daniels the Butler).  The best part of the flight was when they served us ice cream as part of one of our meals.  I have never received or even been offered the option of having ice cream on a plane so this was pretty cool.  Finally, around 3:30pm (US time), I landed in the states.  After going through three different securities in Newark Airport and retrieving my luggage, I was able to finally see the face of  my Father.  And then I was slapped in the face with just how cold it was in New Jersey.  I naively flew home jacketless in a dress with leggings.

In my Dad's car, I was also greeted with something I have been missing since August 29, dun dun dun... a bagel!  On our ride home, we talked about some of the differences I was already experiencing back home:

1. I was able to understand the Newark announcements in Spanish without any problem.
2. Because we weren't driving through mountains, my carsickness was gone.
3. However, I had forgotten what traffic was like.
4. There was so much snow!

Once home, I was told that my Nana passed at exactly the same time that I stepped foot onto US soil.  I'm going to pretend that she was waiting for me to land on the ground first.  Another difference:

     5. There was central heating!  I only had to sleep with three blankets instead of my normal seven    in Spain.

The next day I woke up early to get a much needed haircut.  Six plus months of not cutting my hair was leaving me looking like a long haired cat.   Anyway, the next days passed in a blur between the wake and the funeral.  While the actual events were really depressing, it was nice seeing old faces of family and friends.

I'm getting side tracked.  Actually I'm just procrastinating writing the next part because I know it's going to make me cry.  Okay.  Deep breath.  Here I go... I mainly started writing this post because yesterday I stumbled upon this quote:

 We are here to laugh at the odds

and live our lives so well that

death will tremble 

to take us.

I found the poem so fitting with the events of this past weekend.  I really think death was afraid and "trembling" to take my Nana from this Earth because she had lived her life so well.  She was almost 99 years old for goodness sake.  How many people do you know to live that long??  When I was younger, I was lucky enough to spend time with my Nana going through all of her old photo albums and listening to the stories behind the pictures.  We continued to repeat this ritual even in her early Alzheimer's days.  It didn't matter how many times I heard the same story, her life was absolutely inspiring and fascinating.  She lived through The Great Depression, basically every war involving the U.S. (The Civil War is the exception), she played basketball as a kid and loved riding her bike up until she was elderly.  Her passion was found in horses and taking care of her family.  She was amazing at all things involving sewing.  She even played the violin and spoke some French.  She grew to have eight children; two of whom passed before her along with her beloved husband.  She was open about her disgust with the "lousy limeys" and had enough Irish sayings to fill a book.  She is one of the few people I have met who have lived their life literally to its fullest.  And even though Alzheimer's took her memory from her over the last five-ten years, she still remained the feisty, funny old lady everyone had come to know and love.

The kicker about all of this is that she was "supposed" to die when I was 15 and in my first year of college.  She had her first big fall then and it was said that she didn't have much time left.  And multiple times since then has this phrase been repeated.  But she beat the odds by eight more years.  Unfortunately, this backfired, because in my eyes it almost made her seem invincible.  And when someone is invincible, they don't die.  So of course, I just continued to live my life while she continued to live hers; always "expecting" it to happen eventually but never really believing it ever would.  So this is where I'm left today.  Still devastated.  But slowly moving on.

I've had a lot of time to reflect since my trip back to Spain was a short 24 hours (that's sarcasm in case you missed it.)  As sad as I am now, I am comforted by the fact that from now on my Nana will be with me always.  If you're one of those people who get offended by other people's beliefs, please jump to the next paragraph.  The traveler that I am, I've always tried to incorporate her spirit into my travels in some form or matter.  It actually started when she gave me a handkerchief that she embroidered when I was young.  Since my travels around the world began, I've always carried that handkerchief with me in one of my bags.  So in my mind, she's been with me in spirit to The Caribbean, Ireland, England, Wales, France, Italy, Scotland, and Spain.  And because Europe is famous for its churches, I try to light a candle in each church I've visited in her honor.  So technically her spirit has been with me in famous churches such as Westminster Abbey and Notre Dame along with smaller churches found in tiny towns like Priego.  And the funny part about all of this is that some of my traveling friends knew of this tradition, and whenever they heard about her being sick or even up to the events recently, they've lit a candle for her too.  Somehow, my Nana managed to impact people she's never even met before.  And with her passing, in my eyes, it's almost like she's closer to me now than ever before.  Because I truly believe that she is up in heaven looking down on me and this time, her actual spirit is now with me in all of my travels.  (I hope she's ready for a trip to Morocco, Prague, Austria, and a return trip to Ireland.) 

This blog post was not an easy one to write.  It took me two days, a glass of wine, and an entire bag of goldfish to finish writing it.

I take that back.  This whole Spain experience has not been an easy one.  It will forever remain one of the best years of my life along with one of the most difficult since literally every part of this experience has been a challenge.  I love it.  I truly do.  But there are just some days (aka yesterday), where I'm just dying to run back to the United States.  I am incredibly blessed to have made such wonderful friends on this journey.  When it comes to these tough times, you need other Americans to help you pull through, and the friends I've made here in Spain have been there for me for everything.  I guess when you go through such a crazy experience such as moving to a foreign country a million miles away from home, you immediately form a bond that will last a lifetime.

This is a shout out to my three greatest American friends in Spain who understood everything I was going through and did everything they could to cheer me up before, during, and after the events of this past weekend.

The giant boquet of flowers delivered to my piso in Priego 

by these amazing girls.

I hope this post gives you a small sense of who my Nana was.  Along with the impact she had on not only my life, but on other peoples lives too.  This post in written in memory of Marie Fitzpatrick Rowan June 13, 1915 -February 25, 2014

Oh and one last thing... Simply because my Nana only does things with a purpose, the day we buried her happened to be her and my grandfather (aka Gramps)'s anniversary.  Another thing, I'm believing she planned.  I hope they celebrated with a bottle of white zin, some cheese and crackers for hors d'ooeuvres, and by dancing the night away in heaven.  "Love you doll."