MOONINSPAIN

A Story of Heritage and Humor

My Nana was one of the most important people in my life. When I close my eyes I can see her standing in her alleyway kitchen, as she called it. She has one of those mustard colored telephone handsets resting on her shoulder and a cigarette dangling from her other hand. Her nails were always flawlessly painted to match her impeccable clothing. She donned two elegant, gold rings that coordinated with the  necklaces permanently hanging about her Arizona sun tanned skin. I don’t know how she managed to do this on a daily basis. Her hair color varied from month to month with perfect fluffy curls cut short just over her ears where she placed clip-on earrings to match the rings. Her brightly painted lips would always be parted in a huge smile, or as she would say, a shit eating grin.

Having been raised by immigrant parents, her vocabulary in English was colorful like that of one who speaks a second language. She loved the word disgusting but when it rolled off her tongue it sounded more like dizzzzzguzzzzzzding. She was filled with phrases and sayings that were translated directly from Italian to English. When we would annoy her as young children she would tell us, “go see if I am outside.” I could write a book just on her sayings alone.

I have a friend here in Granada who used to say to our young children, “¡humo!” which means smoke in Spanish. As if she were telling them to spontaneously combust and disappear. That always reminded me of my Nana. There are many similarities in the language and culture of two southern European countries.

Nana was always one hundred percent herself. It seemed like she didn’t let the times and/or culture in which she was raised stop her from living the life she chose. She was the youngest of five children, four of them were girls. We had this in common, being the babies of our generations and of four girls.

Nana never told me stories of what it was like to grow up in an immigrant family in downtown Chicago in the early 1900’s, but I can imagine it wasn’t easy. My mother eventually told me stories that opened my eyes to the harsh reality of their life, but the memories I have of my Nana are always with a smile on her face and a sarcastic joke on her tongue. 

We used to go visit her where she worked as a cashier at the Foremost Liquor store. At five years old, I was the only girl my age who had a Grandmother who worked. She worked her entire life until they followed my Grandfather’s dream to buy a Cadillac and drive across the country to live in California. I later learned that my Grandpa hadn’t been the sweetest husband for most of their life together. According to my mother, by the time I was born he had calmed down quite a bit. I was his favorite and my memories of sitting on his chubby lap are crystal clear. He was diagnosed with bladder cancer and was already quite ill when they accomplished his lifelong dream and moved to California, driving off in their gold Cadillac. 

After my Grandpa died, my Nana moved to Arizona where two of her children were already living. Eventually, my family also ended up in Arizona and I would spend hours with my Nana in her little ranch style home with the alleyway kitchen. I drove that gold Cadillac all over once I had my drivers license. We used to call it The Boat.

One afternoon I was sitting at the dining room table eavesdropping on my Nana’s telephone conversation. I could hear my Nana mentioning grave plots which seemed very strange to me. When she hung up I asked her what the conversation was about. She sat down next to me, lighting a cigarette and nonchalantly said, “I just sold the grave plot that I had next to your grandfather in California.” She almost snickered as she told me that she had bought a new one here in Arizona where she wished to be buried. Maybe the slight shock on my face caused her to continue on with an explanation as only she could give. “Madge, what do they say when someone dies?” “Rest in peace”, I said quietly and not really knowing what we were getting at with this. “Exactly”, she responded. And continued to say, “I spent my entire life next to that bastard and I intend to do just that when I die. Rest In Peace.” End of conversation.