My grandmother on my mother’s side, known fondly as “Nana”, was born Eleanor Barbara Zeilonka. She was the fifth of ten children, two of which were her elder brothers. Oddly enough, both were named Michael. With the boys gone, Nana Eleanor’s mom had eight girls in a row, my grandma being the third daughter born.

It was a houseful, in a small town called Dagget, Michigan. The only reason I know this is because my Nana had a framed certificate on her kitchen wall stating her “Ella of Dagget”. It was a prize for a writing contest she entered when I was a child, and it was addressed to her in renaissance style, her pen name presumably being “Ella” and being of Daggett, Mi. I’m fairly certain she was born at home, I’d imagine her older sister Emily probably helped when things got messy and tough, as they do.

Nana’s father, Michael Zielonka, was a cabinet maker, and he was always short of money with so many mouths to feed. Apparently he liked to drink. Her mother, Marie Jukl, was a beautiful lady of infinite patience and talents.

My Great Aunt’s names were, in order, Emily, Bernice (forever known as Bunny), (Nana Eleanor), Stephanie, Frances, Virginia and Jeanette.

I had to text my mom to get the name list correct.

They all had the same broad smile, gorgeous brunette hair, and killer figures. Great Grandma had made eight pretty ladies, but my Nana was the prettiest by far. She was a beauty contestant in the J Sterling Morton High School physical education follies of 1938.

Nana loved to cook, and her specialty was soup. There could be nothing in the house to eat, and she’d come up with the most amazing soup to chase the winter chill away.

I spent a lot of time at her and Papa’s house as a child. I remember working in their victory garden. We’d pull weeds, make little rows, “put the baby beans to bed so they can make big beans!”, more weeding, and the great harvest at the end of the season. When my cousin Andre came to visit up from St. Louis, once he and I got to know each other again (As long distance cousins often do), we’d run around the yard, playing, sometimes stopping to eat berries off the bush, refresh with the mint overgrowing in the big planter, or grab a handful of chives and dare each other to eat a big bunch at once.

Nana was an excellent seamstress. I owe my success in sewing to her. She taught me the basics, helped me alter her clothes to fit my little self if I needed a special costume, and told me I could dive in her sewing box for fabric whenever I got bored. Nana kept a big beehive pincushion in her room, next to the lotion bottle which was stocked with rose scented lotion. On the beehive pincushion, she kept large needles threaded not too long, just waiting for me to use. In her own way, she encouraged my creativity.

Nana was a glamour queen as well, when she died in 2013, she left behind five full closets of clothes spanning decades of fashion.

She was under my care part time when her health started to fail. After she had a stroke, she resided at a nursing home for a bit, then quickly declined.

But in between those points, we had a lot of fun together! At the grocery store, she’d always be shocked at the prices, and once we got home from shopping, she was equally shocked when I served her a WHOLE GLASS full of orange juice. “Such decadence! Are you sure this is all for me, honey?”

She called my eldest daughter Sugar, for she could not remember her proper name. But Sugar always fit, and thankfully Olivia responded with joy to the sweet moniker.

Nana loved the movie “It’s a wonderful life”, and we watched it every day after I picked her up from adult daycare at the church. She loved it so much, that my daughter and I started setting up the Christmas tree each week for her. Oh how she loved Christmas.

Nana was also a product of her time, and frequently remained in the past once her dementia took hold. By this time Papa was long dead, and Nana asked where he was at least once a day. I’d say, “I’m not sure, but let’s have a snack before he comes home!” and she’d smile and agree.

We kept it to happy moments.

I miss my Nana a lot, she was always so kind and sweet to me and my kid. She thought modern music was hilarious “Honey, they sound so angry!” and enjoyed getting her hair done “The world needs more glamour!” and taught me that even in the midst of confusion and uncertainty, it’s okay to be sweet.