Many times when my family would discuss significant future events (graduations, weddings or even holidays) with my Nana her typical response would be, “If I’m still here.” It became a running joke in our family because women on my mother’s side live well into their 90’s and with most of their mental clarity. No chance that Nana was going anywhere any time soon.

Today I got the call that my Nana will not be there for any of my future milestones and it doesn’t seem real.

The daughter of Italian immigrants, Josephine Volpe was a smart woman who lived in Brooklyn for most of her life. She was a true city girl, telling my sister and me stories of how she would walk long distances and take multiple busses to work and the trials of apartment living. She worked hard as a secretary and got to work with some of the first computers on the market, when they used to take up an entire room. The best memories I have are when we could get her talking about growing up in the depression or life in the city. The older she got, the less she cared about what she said and her off-color remarks would often make us cringe but also laugh. I will miss her knack for telling it like it is, or at least how she saw it.

She was also a worrier. I feel sad that she never lived to her true potential because of the fear she felt for the world around her. Making friends was difficult for her. She was lonely in her house in Whiting, NJ and I regret never calling or visiting enough when I had the chance.

The two most recent visits I had with her were particularly memorable. When she turned 89 last year she insisted that we not make a fuss about it, as usual. So, of course, my mom and I did the opposite. We decorated her house while she was at ceramics class. There were streamers and balloons everywhere. When we brought her home from class, she was stunned, but I could tell she got a real kick out of it. We had cake and sang happy birthday.

In true Nana fashion, when I told her to make a wish, she said: “I hope you find a nice man to marry out here so you don’t have to move to California.” Way to use that birthday wish to your advantage, Nana. It was a fun afternoon and I am so glad that we took the time to make a fuss over her, even if it was against her wishes.

The last time I saw and spoke with my Nana was two days before I left the east coast. I didn’t have time to do anything but pack. I was in panic mode about getting everything done. My mom reminded me that I owed Nana a visit and I grudgingly agreed and put my plans on hold to spend an afternoon with her.

I bought us dinner at a local pizza shop and tried to put my to-do list out of my mind. I told her about my road trip plans, where I would be living and assured her multiple times that I planned to be very safe. At one point we were discussing my parents’ honeymoon, which had been in San Francisco. She pointed out some paintings on the wall and told me that my parents had brought them back for her and my Papa as souvenirs. Although I had looked at them my whole life I never noticed that they were of the Painted ladies. I got really excited and told her how I had been there last year on vacation and I had photos of the same spot. She looked as surprised as me, responding, “You mean they really exist?! I thought they were just paintings of pretty houses.” I showed her the photos on my phone and explained about their iconic status. We talked some more about California as I fixed a few things around the house. Then, after many hugs and words of advice, we parted ways and I drove off watching her stare out the window after me in her typical fashion.

I wish I could have shared more with her, taken her more places or even have been able to show her around my new home on the west coast. She was always so supportive of me, even when I knew she didn’t agree with my choices. I’ve been thinking about how much I need to call her the past two weeks, the timing never seemed right for the call. Now I am out of time. I hope she knew how much I loved her, even though I didn’t always take the time to show her. Maybe next time I visit the Painted Ladies she’ll be standing there with me.

Four months shy of her 90th birthday, Nana passed away in her home. I know that she is now happily reunited with my Papa in heaven and I hope that she is at peace.

You will be missed Nana, I love you.