on the porch with Keitha

My grandmother's name is Keitha.
She is 100 years old this year. We're having a party for that, naturally. How many people turn 100? How many can remember the years  of their lives?
Keitha can.
Me: nanny, do you remember the depression?
Nanny: yup, it wasn't good, I'll tell you that. We did ok because my father had animals and a farm. We had a neighbour who got lost for 5 days.
Me: How did you find him?
Nanny: I don't know the dog and the horse found him.

My nanny has a way of telling stories like nobody I've ever known. She will start one story and it turns into another. She also has a quick wit about her. Even at 100.

Nanny: Jenny (she's the only one who gets away with that, so don't bother starting) you're not married
Me: I know nanny
Nanny: we need to fix that and get you a husband
Me: Well, gee nanny, that would be swell. Where do you think we'll find one of those?
Nanny: We'll go for a drive and see if we can find one in the ditch
Me: Well Nanny. I don't know if I want a ditch husband, I think I'd like me one of those centre of the road husbands.
Nanny: Oh, honey, I think they're all gone by this time.

Nanny had 11 children. 13 pregnancies. When you never weigh more that 100lbs in a wet wool sweater that's alot of babies.
Hell, that's alot of babies for anybody.
Today we're sitting on the porch watching the cars. Nanny is enjoying the sun and the breeze. Maybe that's the secret to a long life. Just enjoying the sun and the breeze. In the moment.
I know I have a hell of a time staying in the moment. My brain won't shut up. I'm conjecturing, extrapolating, planning, plotting, remembering and worrying.

I don't know if Nanny wants a party. She told me last year she'd croak to get out of one. I sure hope she doesn't. It promises to be a blast.

Life would be a little less interesting without Nanny. She likes miso soup. She misses our old dog too.
She'll crook the "crooked finger of doom" at you if you're not careful and behave. The crooked finger of doom will bring a grown man to his knees so she can pull his ears. I've seen it.

She offered to put on her big boots and go talk to my boss about getting me a raise. My money is on her against Corporate Canada. No, really.

Nanny is spooky sometimes too. She'll tell you she dreamt about a person and within the day...sometimes two that person will call or drop in. Every damned time.

She gives me her pearls of wisdom every now and then.

"Jenny (don't start) a good man doesn't have to tell you how good he is. You just know. If he has to tell you, he probably isn't"
"Jenny, a loud man isn't a scary man. It's the quiet ones you have to watch"
"Never ride a horse you haven't looked in the face. They need to know you or they might throw you"

Nanny tells me lots of the lessons she's learnt. This is valuable stuff.
I get to learn them because Nanny has been in my life all my life. I stayed with her when I was a child and a teen and then she moved in with us when she was 90.

I worry sometimes about all those people in retirement homes. What kind of wisdom do they have that we are missing out on? What stories and experiences and pearls of wisdom?
I think we are poorer for it.
Thankfully I am fairly rich in this.