Skaggs Family: videos

Nana
Dec. 13, 1926 - Jan. 1, 2011

I haven't posted in a while because, well, I haven't felt like it. But I made a commitment that I would blog about Jones' first year and then turn it into a book on his first birthday. So I need to blog about his first Christmas, but I can't seem to make myself do that until I blog about this.

So here it goes.

My sweet Nana died New Years Day. It was the strangest Christmas holiday I have ever experienced. On one hand, it was Jones' first and I was so happy. On the other hand, we spent our days in the ICU knowing it was going to be Nana's last.

Through all of this I keep coming back to two things: 1) She loved the Lord and lived her life serving him. So I know she is with him now. and 2) she never wanted anyone to view her as old, never wanted anyone to see her sick and never wanted anyone to have to take care of her - and they never did. She was healthy and happy up until the day of the surgery. And while the surgery obviously didn't turn out like we had planned or wanted, she lived her life the way she wanted even until the end, so I have to be happy. She lived a long and wonderful life, so I must be thankful.

It goes without saying that I miss her terribly. We talked every afternoon at 4:30. I get sad when I see that on the clock now. It will take time, I know, but right now I am just thankful that even through my sadness, I have a peace.

People lined up around the church to give their condolences to us during the visitation. FBC Starkville was completely full during the funeral. Trey and I discussed how there were more people there than there were at our wedding. People came as far as Ohio and Chicago to pay their respects. What a beautiful testimony to a beautiful life. She was so loved by so many.

Laura and Kristen wanted the grandchildren (the three of us plus our cousin, Jake) to stand up and say something at her funeral. I didn't know how I could do it. They asked me to write something. I refused at first. It took me two nights to write a couple of paragraphs. I was totally without words.

In the end, I wrote something without reading over it even once and handed it to my sisters to do what they wanted with it. Laura, bless her brave soul, read it while Jake, Kristen and I stood behind her.

Here is what we said about our Nana:

How do you put into words all that Nana was? There are no words big enough to fit her.
Nana is more than words – Nana is an attitude. A state of mind. A lifestyle.

While it is impossible to summarize Nana’s life in words, there are a few words that come to mind when we reflect on her greatest loves in this life: Faith, Family, Friends, Fellowship, and, of course, Fun and Fashion.

To know Nana is to know life. She knew what it meant to live life, and to live it large. No detail in our lives was too small to her. She savored every seemingly minuscule aspect of our lives. She celebrated every moment with us and for us – she was our biggest fan. She celebrated life.

So today we celebrate, as Nana would want. We celebrate the life of an amazing woman - our Nana -whose beauty, dedication, spirit, and smile will stay with us forever. We celebrate Nana today by her granddaughters wearing her pins and jewels, just as she would have wanted. We celebrate by remembering her spunk, her love, her passion for life by living our lives with her attitude and with peace in our hearts knowing that a life lived for the Lord will always have a happy ending.

Nana and her grands (Gotta love the 80's)

I know Nana was so proud of Laura's strength and grace. I was a sobbing fool up there. And I know Nana loved the fact that all three of her grand-girls were wearing her (clip-on) earrings and larger-than-life broaches. Not to mention we went shopping for her funeral - it's what she would have wanted. Fun dresses, no black. I wore purple.

Nana and her girls (me, very pregnant)

One of the biggest blessings was hearing from one of Kristen's childhood friends the day Nana died. When Jessi heard of Nana's passing, she immediately wrote this for her personal blog. When we read it, my dad asked her to read it at the funeral. It is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard and I will treasure these words forever:

Forever Young

Living in Brooklyn, most of the people I interact with are somewhere between their twenties and fifties. But being back home for the holidays, conversations and activities tend to revolve around what babies have been born, who’s passing on and who’s past. Mantles overflowing with family photo Christmas cards in all the homes I visit are a testament to the births. Obituaries filling nearly a page in the 8-page daily newspaper I read while eating my breakfast of grits are a testament to the deaths. These consistent reminders throw a wrench in the gears of my normal world view, but maybe that’s a good thing this time of year: a time for reflection and resolution.

So here goes the reflection. Growing up, I had a best friend named Kristen. She was probably the best best friend you could ask for: she was always upbeat, up for a good time, and the most popular girl in our class. Who knows why such a well-liked child picked such an awkward goof of a girl as her confidant, but in retrospect, I have to admit we made a great team. She had the guts and I had gusto, and when we were together, there was little we thought we couldn't accomplish. Over the course of junior high and high school, we passed most of our evenings together, working on class projects, campaign posters and cheerleader dance choreography. As a result, I spent a great deal of time with her family, a family that was very different from mine: there were lots of rules and chores, but aside from the typical teenage rebellion, there was harmony. These parents clearly loved and respected each other and their three daughters. And while these daughters may have suffered sisterly spats, at the end of the day, they were each other’s greatest allies.

Presiding over it all were Nana and Dada Tomlinson, Kristen’s grandparents. They had raised two boys, Kristen’s father and uncle, who in turn raised their own families in the same small town. Every single one of them got together at least weekly, and while I suppose having everyone live within five miles of each other kept them close, their devotion to one another clearly went beyond proximity. To the Tomlinsons, family was clearly the priority.

Jennie (Nana) Tomlinson was a regular fixture at our school plays, graduations, sporting events, or anywhere else she could possibly drink in her grandchildren and their friends. I was lucky to have been among those friends because I got to know this incredible woman. I never heard her utter a harsh word. In fact, in speaking with her, it seemed to be all about YOU. She remembered every detail you ever shared with her about your life, and she treated them like treasures she’d reveal the next time you were with her. What seemed trivial to anyone else became “remember such and such?” or “well how’s this and that?” to Nana. She showed genuine interest in other people and demonstrated true thoughtfulness, always managing to make others feel important and appreciated. I was also captivated by Nana because she showed a special flare for, well, flair. She loved having her hair done and putting on an outfit. She always had a special purse or some gigantic sparkly broach, and well before it was mainstream, she was into metallics and beading and fringe. Given my obsession for such things now, she probably had a bigger impact on me than I’ve ever thought about before. Nana was always at ease with herself regardless of the situation, and perhaps because of that, she was timeless. Many of those who considered themselves her friends were half or even a third of her age. Her hair may have been a snowy puff and her face may have been creased, but she was youthful and beautiful because her creases always situated themselves in a smile that started with her eyes. I think about Nana often now that I seem to have turned a corner where each morning I find a line on my face where there wasn’t one the morning before. What is it to be a woman and to age? It means you’d better find some role models if you hope to maintain grace and sanity. Nana is one such role model. Her beauty transcends age.

After rooming together our Freshman year of college, Kristen and I ended up living very different lives. Mine is that of an artist in Brooklyn and hers is that of a doctor who after seemingly unending years of school and residency has finally returned to our home to begin a practice. It’s fitting she’ll be delivering the next generation of children who’ll inherit our stomping ground. We only see each other occasionally, but when we do, we easily fall back into the mode of old friends. I’m so proud of her, and I’m proud to say the Tomilinsons were a crucial part of my formative years. I learned powerful lessons observing their family dynamic. Being friends with Nana taught me much about the true meanings of beauty and character. Nana Tomlinson passed away on New Year’s Day 2011 at the age of 84. To the end, she was kind, happy, independent, and funny. She was sustained by the love of her family, and in turn she brought many others joy. The example Nana set is a part of me, and thusly will go on to touch everyone I love.

And now on to my two-part resolution. One: Live like Nana: celebrate family, celebrate others and celebrate whimsy. Two: Don’t wait until people have left this world to express how much they’ve meant.

(nana in middle)

PLEASE check out her amazing blog here. Love her.

Thinking about Nana, I have been reading some of my old blog posts I have written about her (and there were many). I found this one that I wrote a few years ago on her birthday. I want to be like her - not just be alive, but to truly live.

And, finally, a video of Nana. This is how I want to remember Nana - dancing to Usher with my 5 day old son.