The Final Classic Story From My Nana's Life

Social media has been a part of my life since 2003, when I created my profile on Friendster. It has been mostly a blessing as it allows me to keep in touch with family and friends while also sharing my work, thoughts, and random moments from life.

In one major way, it has been a blessing because it serves as a makeshift journal chronicling my life. Anything on Friendster has long since been lost. Anything on Myspace, at least from its heyday, has also been lost. The biggest storage container of the memories of my life on social media is Facebook.

Since the spring of 2007, my life and the events of it have been shared on Facebook. Every day I look at the ‘Memories’ page, and it brings me back to different chapters of my life. It’s amazing to think that I started on Facebook at 29, and later this year, I will turn 49. It’s getting very close to half of my life.

A recent post from the memories page is what spurred this article on. When it comes to my grandparents, the three who were alive during my lifetime at least, my final memories of them are different. Not so much the very end. They were all sad, but in a small way, also a relief because they were all old and suffering to a different degree. I am looking at the final full years of their lives.

My Grampa’s final year, May 2018 through May 2019, is burned into my mind. He was trending downward from the effects of dementia. The older memories still remained, but ask him about present-day, and it was a lot of stammering and blank stares.

My last truly wonderful moment with my Grampa was sharing a photo of his childhood home in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, with him in November 2018. From then on out, it was a rapid decline and an end that was sad, but a relief because, as I said, he was suffering.

My Grampa's childhood home in Fitchburg, MA

My Nina’s final year, March 2020 through March 2021, was awful. I am sure most of you see the timeline there and know what was going on. My Nina’s final year was spent in lockdown at the assisted living facility she had been at.

The sad irony was that I had been working at that same place and had access to her every day I worked. I would visit every day, bring the foods she liked, including raising toast and bacon. If anybody questioned it, I said I was family, and I was giving her what she wanted, and basically, they couldn’t stop me.

Mere weeks before the COVID pandemic shut the world down, I left that job. I was looking for part-time so that I could start getting back into personal training. It was a huge mistake. The new job was a terrible step down, with or without the pandemic. Leaving my Nina on her own when I had been there has left me with guilt that I might never live down.

When it comes to my Nana, things are a bit blurry. Her last year was December 2008 through December 2009. With my Nina and Grampa having lived until much more recently, I have found that their lives remain fresh in my mind. Having been nearly 17 years since my Nana died, it can be hard to form a clear picture of her last year.

My last real memory of my Nana in a normal sense was around my birthday in early November 2009. I would always visit her even as I grew older into my 30s. It wasn’t until after she had ended up in an assisted living facility at the end that a few things became clearer.

Her memory was slipping, but at 85, that was to be expected. Physically, she had much more trouble walking. It became more of a shuffle. This actually led to a funny story during those final months.

I was sitting at the dining room table as I had done hundreds of times in my life. I believe that I had my laptop open and I wanted to show her something. Sitting on the floor next to me was Nana’s cat Mittens. She was a black and white striped cat who, by that time, had to have been 15 years old.

Nana came over to look, but in doing so stepped on Mittens’ tail. She screamed out and tried to run away. My Nana, with her legs weak and heavy now, couldn’t lift her foot fast enough. It ended up looking like a cartoon with Mittens jumping into the air with all four feet elevated, but stuck by her tail under Nana’s foot. Eventually, she lifted her foot, and Mittens ran off. Her anger only lasted until Nana opened a fresh can of cat food for her. This video is from October 2009, just over two months before my Nana died.

The social media aspect of this post comes through when I had a memory pop up from May 2009. A story I had totally forgotten about. I will share it, but it also made me want to take a trip back in time and see what other sorts of stories I might have shared during my Nana’s final year.

The final hurrah in terms of classic memories with my Nana actually has little to do with her. She was more of a background player in what turned out to be a typical event in my life.

It all began with a car accident. I was at a pretty rural intersection in Yarmouth. I had never before, or since, had anything remotely odd happen at that meeting of the roads. On this date, August 27, 2008, I stopped, looked both ways, and started through the intersection. Then I saw it.

A car came barreling around a bit of a blind corner. It flew through the intersection. I had a moment to cut my wheel and turn away before the car t-boned me. It hit me on the driver’s side just in front of the tire, spinning me around. My airbag didn’t deploy, which was great. If I hadn’t cut the wheel, who knows what types of injuries I would have had?

My totaled Saturn

I was fine and stepped out of my car only to see the other vehicle slowly, very slowly, driving away. I chased after it, yelling and swearing because this jerk had slammed into me and was trying to sneak away like they were a naughty child. It turned out I wasn’t too far off.

A neighbor ran out and chased the car down while another man came out to check on me. It ended up being the same man who was our school police officer at my high school back in the day. He’s asking me if I’m okay, and I’m getting excited to see him because it has been 20 years.

The man who hit me ended up being 95 years old. Insurance took care of everything, but unfortunately, my Saturn Ion was considered totaled. I ended up having to get a rental car for a few days while beginning the search for a new car. The tie to my Nana was that I was heading to her house after work on that day. So I ended up not making it due to my car being totaled.

This time, instead of choosing a smaller sedan that was good on gas, I went with a Jeep Liberty SUV. 4X4, heated leather seats, moon roof, terrible gas mileage, but whatever. I loved it.

The winter was great. I didn’t have to worry about getting stuck in the snow or sliding on ice with my Jeep. I figured that the accident with my previous vehicle was an anomaly and a story I’d be telling for years. It turned out that there was a sequel on its way.

Flash forward to May 25, 2009, and the reason for this entire post. Thanks for making it this far.

I was at my Nana’s house. It was getting dark, so it must have been closing in on 8pm. I was probably watching a rerun of The Simpsons with my father while Nana was sitting at the dining room table.

From outside, I heard a crash. Thinking there had been a collision, I jumped up from the chair and looked outside. I spotted a sedan to the right side just at the edge of my Nana's yard. Its front end was smoking, but it was still trying to drive off. There was no other vehicle until I realized what had collided with that car: my parked Jeep.

This vehicle had slammed into the rear end of my Jeep while doing a U-turn in the middle of the road. Then they tried to sneak off, much like the old man the previous August. I knew that my rear axle had to be trashed from the collision.

I ran outside yelling at the other car. This scrawny guy steps out. He was probably around my age, then early 30s. I could tell he must have been on something by the way he was speaking in stuttering phrases while being very jittery.

Flashbacks of my Saturn popped into my head, and I started going off on the guy. How could he be so reckless as to slam into my parked car? I wasn’t in the middle of the street. I asked him if he was drunk, and suddenly his demeanor changed.

He started begging me not to call anybody. He begged to be able to go inside and talk to the people in there. So this tweaking weirdo wanted to go inside and talk to my 85-year-old grandmother? No way.

By this point, my Nana had come to the door to see what was up. This bag of bones sees her and starts calling out to her. He’s begging to be allowed to go in and talk to her. Why? Honestly, what did he need to speak to my Nana? To plead his case? You hit my car, pal. Plead your case to me.

I stood between him and the front door, telling him explicitly that there was no way I was letting him near my Nana. I demanded his insurance info. Now my father had come out, and the other guy finally relented. Granted, he was still pleading his case, but what could he say? He hit a parked car like a moron.

I remember being so mad. Part of me was mad that I had stayed a little longer at my Nana’s. The whole situation could have been avoided if I hadn’t been there. That was just misguided anger. It was a random coincidence that nobody could have predicted.

I believe I drove my Jeep home, but then I didn’t dare to drive it. The sketchy other driver continued to bat 1,000 by ducking his insurance company for days. I had to think seriously about going to the police to get this guy to cooperate. I was also shopping around for a good, reliable mechanic to fix the Jeep.

A few days were spent chasing the guy down and getting his insurance company to handle the claim. I did a lot of walking until I got a rental car, which ironically ended up being the same model as a friend at work. That should be where the story ended, but it wasn’t.

A rare photo of that rental car.

You’d think that it would be as easy as bringing the Jeep to the mechanic and getting the rear axle fixed. Nope. Come on, why would it be that easy? From the day that the accident happened to the day that the Jeep was 100% again was two months.

Not only did it need a new rear axle, but a new fuel tank as well. There was also confusion from both insurance companies as to the actual place where my vehicle was. I had to deal with the idiot who hit my car, calling me angrily, asking about where my Jeep was. In reality, the guy was pissed that he had caused way more damage than he thought. It’s like, hey dude, don’t drive like a moron, and things like this won’t happen.

After five weeks of rental cars, walking, and even riding bikes, I got my Jeep back. Almost immediately, my battery died. It was a comedy show, as anytime I wanted to go somewhere, I had to pop the hood and jump my battery. I believe I had borrowed a portable battery charger. This was every single time I needed to start it. So back to the mechanic it went.

As I mentioned, it was two full months before the Jeep was purring like a kitten again. I loved that vehicle, but an issue would rear its ugly head. Gas prices. Shortly after my Nana died in the last week of 2009, I started doing road trips to cope. I took photos and wrote articles about the places I saw. Those articles are actually way, way back in the archives of this blog.

Gas prices were nearly as high as they are in 2026. Each trip I took got further from home and cost more. I knew I had to make a choice. It was either the road trips that were soothing my soul after my Nana’s death, or the Jeep that up to that point had been my favorite vehicle I had.

In the end, I chose the road trips. I sold the Jeep and got a Ford Focus. Great gas mileage, average looking, but it allowed me to keep logging loads of miles. It worked out for the best.

Me parking my new Ford in some odd places.

Only when going through my Facebook archives did I come upon this story of the Jeep accident. It makes me glad that I have shared as much as I have on social media. I have a great memory, but some things slip through the cracks.

Besides that accident and her standing on Mittens’ tail, there aren’t many memories I have from my Nana’s final year. Luckily, in her case, and the case of all of my grandparents, I have more than enough memories to keep them alive inside my mind for as long as I live.

That is a big reason why I choose to share stories like this. Sure, it’s kind of funny, but it’s also a way to keep my Nana’s memory alive. She might have been gone for going on 17 years, but she created a legacy, and I am a part of that. It is partially my duty to her that I keep the legacy going. I take great pride in that duty.

Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog #113: Wicked Insurance, Construction Woes, Avert Your Eyes, etc.

1. In an interesting turn of events, I briefly had two different auto insurance policies out for my car. I had my original one, which was through AAA. But AAA was switching to a different carrier. They sent me an email, probably a month ago, explaining the change on their end and what I had to do to keep current with the new policy. Around the same time, my original insurance company, the one AAA was leaving behind, emailed me separately to tell me how to keep up with their policy. I was busy at work that day and mistakenly thought they had been sent by AAA and that it was all one and the same. Nope. I got a call saying my AAA policy was going to be canceled because I was reupping with the original company. Now I was more confused. Luckily, I contacted AAA and was told that if I made a payment on their insurance policy, it would stay current. To further solve things, they called the other insurance company and got my first payment through them refunded. That means there was a period where my car was double-insured. I mean, I love my car, but it doesn’t need two insurance policies. All of this was more confusing than some football plays you see scribbled out on a chalkboard, if they still do that.


2. I can only speak for myself, but I feel like once the blizzard hit southern New England on February 22nd, it basically turned my winter blues up to 1,000. It only got worse when we had temperatures hit 60 and then dive back down to around freezing. I had enjoyed the weeks of cool ice content I got on Cape Cod, but once that had run its course, I was all in on winter ending. Instead, it was a piledriver of snow and then just enough warmth to remember how spring felt, and then wham right back to cold. Once I got the taste of spring weather, I put my heavy winter coat away for good. Even if it’s below freezing in the morning, I’m heading outside in my spring hoodie. Looking ahead, the first week of spring includes highs in the mid 30s a few times and at least one possible chance of snow. My energy level has been in the trash for the last several weeks. Hopefully, once spring really begins, I can shake off the winter blues that are beating the hell out of me currently.


3. I’ve wanted to be a writer, or do something in a creative field, since I was 8. If I told my younger self that someday he’d have published 10 books, done speaking events, radio interviews, been on television, hosted a podcast, acted in a film, co-produced a short film, and was getting set to produce a feature-length film based on something he’d written, he’d probably ask me how big my mansion was. This isn’t humble bragging because then reality sets in. Despite having on paper a pretty impressive portfolio, I still have to work a full-time day job just to pay my bills. Success can sometimes be subjective. I am lucky and blessed to have a roof over my head, a job that pays my bills, and the freedom and physical health to be able to still chase my dreams at this stage in my life. I’m sure that along the road of life, I missed exit signs that could have gotten me to what I would consider success sooner. You can’t live life looking backward, though. You have to keep moving forward. You have to keep sharing your gifts, sharing your creativity, and put together such a massive portfolio of content that your success becomes inevitable and undeniable. So yes, I have accomplished a lot in terms of creative endeavors, but I also have quite a ways to go to become successful. It keeps me focused.


4. A recent viral craze on social media is ‘X, what were you like in the 90s?’ People my age and older share photos and videos of themselves from back then. Loads of celebrities from the 90s are doing it as well as ordinary, everyday people. Of course, having a creative mind, I couldn’t just post a few photos. It needed to be unique. What I did was dress in an old flannel and a fedora and act like an old man while a narrator off-screen (also played by me) asked me what I was like in the 90s. It segues into a montage of photos with Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit playing. When the video comes back to me, the narrator makes sure to remind me that the 90s ended 27 years ago. This causes old man me to cry that he’s wrinkled like an old piece of fruit (a nod to Grampa Simpson) before collapsing on the ground. The best part was that I did this in an empty parking lot across from a museum. I had to wait to begin filming because a large group was getting ready to go into the museum, and I didn’t want to act all foolish for their amusement. Also, I lost the remote shutter for my tripod briefly, which was what I used to capture myself driving my car into the scene. I actually accidentally filmed myself frantically searching my car for it for a minute. It had fallen behind the front seat. Nice.




5. My first acting gig, Cape Cod Cthulhu, is now available to stream for free. It’s actually a pretty good turnaround. I shot my scenes basically one year ago to the day. It’s a feature-length film, roughly 75 minutes. The fact that it was shot, edited, released for sale on Blu-ray, and then put up for streaming, all within a calendar year, is impressive. Considering that I’ll be working with a lot of the same crew, it gives me hope that my feature-length film, The Cabin, which we’ll be shooting this August, will be released in plenty of time before my 50th birthday in November 2027. Of course, that project will be a lot more work for me since I’ll be producing and acting in it. In Cape Cod Cthulhu, a campy low-budget horror movie, I only had 3 scenes, so it was pretty simple. Obviously, I wouldn’t mention that you could stream the film and not put a link to it. Check it out, it’s a breezy, fun watch.

6. Where I live on Cape Cod, I am pretty much surrounded on all sides by seemingly never-ending construction projects. I have to choose my driving routes very carefully to avoid stops and detours. While those are annoying, the real issue comes from the terrible conditions of all of those same roads, plus many more. It’s nonstop pot holes, some a few feet wide and probably up to a foot deep. I bet the roads in most major cities are better than ours are currently. I have to bob and weave while driving just to avoid the parade of hazards on the roadways. I am actually begging for the day that a cop sees me weaving to avoid these holes and pulls me over. Then, when I ace their breathalyzer, I can inform them that I’m not going to ruin my car thanks to these crappy roads. Because if I blow tires or destroy my suspension, I guarantee that the town won’t be helping me pay the bill. So why the hell shouldn’t I try to avoid doing that at all costs? By the time the construction that’s going on is done, there will be fifty other projects starting in other areas nearby.


7. I didn’t start my Saturday thinking I’d end up with over 21,000 steps. I played basketball for the first time since the fall and then had a pair of long walks. Those things made up most of it. The steps didn’t take into account walking on sand, over rocks, and up and down hills. It was a marathon day that left me exhausted. Not too exhausted to go walk the flats and get some great sunset photos. A neat thing I found out is that my Fitbit buzzes not just at 10K steps, but every 10K steps. So when I hit 20K, it went off again. The last time I hit more than 20K steps was January 2024, so it’s been a while. I’d like to say it’s a sign of things to come, but we have to wait to see how my knees feel.


8. I tried to get away with something, and craziness ensued. At the supermarket, there were these great Oikos Flip yogurts, the ones with mix-ins, that had $1 off two of them coupons taped to each container. I grabbed two. When self-checking out, I used the coupon, and when trying to shove it in the coupon slot, I saw that the tape on it had gotten it stuck to the side. Figuring why not, I tried to use a 2nd coupon for the other yogurt. The register ended up alerting an employee. I quickly folded the coupon and tried putting it in the slot like I was destroying evidence. The employee came over, and I showed him the stuck coupon. He then said, ‘avert your eyes.’ I turned my head but noticed him whip out a box cutter to slice the coupon free. Just foolishness all around. Oh, but the register did accept the coupon in the end, so I ended up paying about $1 for both of the yogurts.


9. There truly are very few places on Cape Cod that I have not been to. When I find a place I haven’t been, or a different way to see a spot I am familiar with, I jump on them. One such place came up this week. There is a tiny dirt parking area in Orleans called Priscilla Beach. According to Google Maps, I should be able to walk along the shore from there and come out far north of the Nauset Beach parking lot. It was about ½ mile walk, sometimes over rocky and unstable ground. Once I walked out onto the beach, I was close to a mile north of the main parking lot. I had never been to the part of Nauset Beach, and then it got better. I crossed back over the dunes after walking about another ½ mile north. It was calm and quiet as I faced the Nauset Inlet. I had never been there either. I took a very slow walk back to my car, savoring every moment in a new place. What was meant to be a quick stop took 1 ½ hours, and I had to skip a few other places I was meaning to see, but it was all worth it.


10. One sight on my walk out to Nauset Beach was a hawk hovering above. It was in an updraft, floating and looking for something to eat in the shallow waters. Armed with my phone and selfie stick, I was able to get a high-quality video of the hawk using 4K 60fps quality. As I spun around, trying to keep the hawk in frame, I ended up staring right into the sun briefly. Luckily, I didn't fall over or anything. I did, however, spin around and come face to face with some guy wandering toward me from the beach. Maybe I had seen him but hadn’t paid any attention, but it was definitely creepy how he just appeared. He was interested in the hawk as well, although he thought it was a vulture. I wished him a good day and kept moving, making sure to put distance between us pretty quickly. Even though there were houses up on the bluff, they were 40-50 feet up and likely were unoccupied at this time of year. So if the guy decided he wanted to turn me into a skin suit, I’d have been in trouble.



11. The Red Maple Swamp trail in Eastham is worth checking out. The White Cedar Swamp trail in neighboring Wellfleet is much more well-known, but the Red Maple deserves some love. It’s a little under a mile and is a boardwalk over the swamp. At this time, though, a month out from the major blizzard we had on Cape Cod, there are still a good number of fallen trees. I had been walking for several minutes and remarked how there weren't any downed trees. Then it was like a switch flipped. There were a bunch of trees down, a few right across the path. I bumped into a younger couple at an intersection. There was a gigantic tree down. They offered to let me go first, but looking at the tree and not knowing how much effort it would take me to climb over it, I let them go first. I figured if I went first and flipped over onto my head, I’d go viral for the wrong reason. I did end up getting over the fallen tree; it did take a bit of effort, though, so I was glad I let the couple go ahead.