Sunday dinners and always full. I remember as a young child, my grandmother was always there for me. Literally, she lived right above my mom, sister, brother and myself. My parents had divorced when I was 2 years old. My mom would pick me up from daycare and bring me home to my grandmother. She was Italian, so my mom would need to go back to work and she always made her late, because she wouldn't let her go until she ate something. She was always in the kitchen, and the aroma of Italian food, always managed to make its way down to our home. She had 7 kids and a lot of grandchildren, but yet by no means were we ever starving...haha...just thinking about it now, it makes me laugh. She taught me how to bake, knit, and how to take care of the people you love most in this world.

My grandmother was the glue of this entire family. She really held us together. We are a big family, and we didn't always see eye to eye. My grandmother was diagnosed with emphysema and she got really sick. Slowly, the family grew apart at the one time that we all really needed to come together. She passed away about 9 years ago, and it still feels like just yesterday. When she passed away, I thought my life was going to just be over. I never could have imagined ever "excepting" the fact that she was gone and would never be here again to make me smile.

You know...it's funny, as I am sitting writing this for the first time...I actually get it. Thinking about all the memories, and things she did for me, for us, I realize something. I need to celebrate her life. I mean, I think about her all the time and I find myself getting sad because she isn't here, but there are so many things in me...spiritually, emotionally, physically that are here because she taught me them. She was a huge part in raising me, and I notice I have some of her qualities.

My family today, isn't exactly together like before, so maybe it's time I start Sunday dinners. Maybe it's time to let her qualities shine on through me.

I love you nana!

Learn more about this author, Christine Zellmann.
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