My Nanny knitted. My Nana crocheted.
My Nanny bought her yarn from a charming shop in historic Orange, VA. My Nana bought her yarn from the Mary Maxim catalogue or from Walmart.
My Nanny made me fair-isle dresses with braided belts. My Nana made me ill-formed, rock-hard crochet animals.
My Nanny was from upstate New York, the Finger Lakes district, from a town of graceful clapboard homes where well-manicured gardens grew on wide, tree-lined streets. My Nana was from Brooklyn, then from a series of working-class towns in New Jersey. Later, she had a double-wide on the Florida panhandle, an hour from the nearest Walmart.
My Nanny's husband did not get along with my father, his son-in-law. My Nana did not get along with my mother, her daughter-in-law.
My Nanny watched baseball on cable. My Nana watched COPS.
For all the holidays, I would send my Nanny boxes of gourmet chocolates. I would send my Nana gift cards to Walmart so that she could buy groceries.
My Nanny never weighed over 100 lbs. in her life. When I was small, I would hug and hug and hug my Nana, trying to get my fingertips to meet.
My Nanny: April 29, 1916-June 1, 2004
My Nana: March 11, 1917-June 5, 2009
I loved them both.