My Nana

Sometimes it takes a while for discussions I have with my clients to sink in. And sometimes it's just little things that stick with me. This week I had discussion about grandparents in one of my sessions. Grandparents, great-grandparents... these people who are removed just enough from the messy love of immediate family. These people who can, if you're lucky, love you unconditionally.

Today I woke up to find that the memories of my own grandparents were rising to the surface, as they sometimes do.

And with them, the sadness. The wishing to know them more. The gratitude for remembering them at all.

I'm all about jumping in and experiencing emotions fully. So I pored over my scrapbooks and old letters and spent time remembering my Nana, my paternal grandmother, today.


(In case you aren't well-versed in the writing of six-year-old Chelseas... the letter reads, "Dear Nana, I love you. You are nice and you are so nice that I could burst. You love me so much that you could burst. There is something that makes me happy about every week, and it is the most precious thing I ever had, and it is you!")