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 #75: Hand Sandwich, Sleeping Bees, Ruined Trampoline, etc.

1. My sprained ankle happened 3 weeks ago and is getting closer to being healed. Of course, that meant it was time for me to inflict another injury on myself. This time I decided to create a hand sandwich and use the steel of the reverse hyper machine at work as the bread. In trying to adjust the flat pad for a future client, I mistook where my hand was. Instead of having it braced with my left hand, I had nothing. When the arm let go it pancaked my right hand between two steel bars. I had a client on the treadmill and was doing this while she walked to save time. I gasped but didn’t scream. My boss walked in a minute later, and I was basically hyperventilating. I was sure my hand was broken. Luckily, there was a less than one-inch gap between the steel bars so my hand wasn’t completely crushed, just mostly. There was lots of ice, lots of ibuprofen, and lots of bruising and swelling. Oh, and also it was a Monday, and I had a super busy day training clients, so it was a bundle of laughs.

Right after the damage was done, it got a lot worse.

2. Cape Cod and much of the country got its first major heat wave this week. We had several days of weather in the high 80s and low 90s. I finally broke down and put in my A/C. This was also the day of my hand injury so trying to put in the A/C was a battle as I tried to gently put it in the window sill while making sure my injured hand didn’t give way. Then the A/C would have fallen onto the cars in the driveway. It would have been like a sitcom with way less laughing from me. Not to worry though the A/C went in and is working fine, just in time for temperatures to drop at the end of the week, making the A/C not necessary, thanks.


3. In continuing with the healing of my right hand I put some pain-relieving gel on it one afternoon. The stuff works well. After work I went out for a short walk with a little running on one of the hottest days in a few years on Cape Cod. It was only when I got back to my car that I noticed my right hand was on fire. Not literally but the combination of the gel, my profuse sweating, and the heat of the day made the perfect mix. My hand was burning until I could get home and take a shower. I still recommend the pain-relieving gel though.


4. One more thing about that hot afternoon of walking and running. First, when I parked at a small lot along the bike trail, I spotted several crows in a tree. They all had their head back and their mouths wide open. It was so odd and creepy but I later found out that they do this on hot days to keep cool since they cannot sweat. Second, while walking the trail, I had 2 different chipmunks I passed that didn’t run away. These chipmunks were sitting beside the trail in the grass too hot to run or care that I was there. I literally could have reached down and picked one up. When the ‘real feel’ is 105 at 6pm, I guess I can’t blame them.


5. When leaving the house one *much* cooler afternoon this week, I spotted a bumblebee sprawled out on top of some blue hydrangea flowers. It was just lying there so I got out my phone and grabbed an up-close video and photo. It wiggled its antennae a bit and when I blew on it to see if it was ok it did move its legs a little. I read that bees sometimes sleep on or in flowers. I also read that they do something similar when they are near the end of their life. When I got home later the bee was gone, so I don’t know if it flew away or if it was picked off as an easy meal.

Was it just sleeping?

6. One thing I am trying to figure out. Is it common for people who own Jeeps to line their dash with rubber toys and other assorted toys? Is this something new? I have seen way more such Jeeps over the last few months than I’d expect. Maybe I am seeing the same few Jeeps repeatedly, but I don’t think so. These Jeeps tend to have a handful to more than a dozen toys on their dash. It’s interesting. I’m curious, but not curious enough to take time out to Google it.


7. I saw on Instagram last week a story featuring a handful of girls running to and jumping on a trampoline located in the dunes of a beach somewhere on Cape Cod. I thought it would be a fun adventure to find and get some photos and videos of to share on social media. Of course, because we’re not allowed to have nice things as soon as I started researching it I found that it had already been ruined. I went out to where it was located and sure enough, some piece of garbage had sliced the trampoline open, making it useless for anyone who might want to go have a little summer fun. Can you imagine being that much of a sad loser that you see something that you know makes others happy and you feel you have to destroy it? Absolute scum. The rumor is it might get replaced with a new one so I have made it a point not to share where it is just in case.

People suck

8. For those who don’t know this summer marks the returns of the cicadas for their visit that occurs once every 17 years. On Cape Cod it has been interesting. We have them but they have not ventured all the way down Cape. Where I live we don’t have any cicadas. I want to try to get a few photos of them since if I don’t I’ll have to wait until 2042. I had to drive about 20-25 minutes west to get to where they have been routinely spotted. I stopped at a marina and could hear their hum so I knew I was in the right area. The problem was that I didn’t know where to stop to try to look for them. Plus it was a gray and drizzly afternoon. I ended up not getting any photos. The best I got was seeing a few in the road but I wasn’t going to stop my car and get out to take photos of a cicada. Oh well there still is plenty of time left in the summer.


9. It is still weird for me to be back in the routine of getting regular haircuts. I had been shaving my head pretty routinely for about 14 years. Long story short I have not been a fan of my hair as it doesn’t grow straight or curly. It grows somewhere in between. I started growing it out in November as a sort of birthday gift to my mother, who has hated my shaved head intensely. With the return of hair meant the return of haircuts. I now keep the top longer and the sides and back short and faded. It doesn’t look bad, and I’m actually enjoying it. This week it was time for a haircut. I have been going to the same barber shop for over 25 years, when I have hair to cut that is. The barber who cut my hair I had never been to. I gave him my haircut instructions and let him have at it. All in all it looks great but I did have a mini heart attack when he wet my hair to trim the top. When he was done he showed me how it looked and he had parted my hair much in the same way it used to be parted when I was like 10 years old. Once I messed it back up it was good, but I worried I was going to be stuck looking like the kid in my old school picture there.

For a moment this guy came back, though much older

10. Even though summer is only a little over a week old it’s time for me to start planning my annual end of the summer vacation. I take my week’s paid vacation the week before Labor Day. It ends up being somewhere around 11 straight days off from work which is always good. Last year I took a 3 day road trip to northern New England, specifically northern New Hampshire into Vermont and then back home through the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts. I am thinking this year should be another 3 day road trip but concentrated in Maine. I haven’t been to Maine since 2019 so it’ll all be fresh again. Time to get to planning.