The Gospel According to Nana
by Samantha Riordan
California Polytechnic University, San Luis Obispo
Samantha Riordan is earning her Journalism degree at California Polytechnic University, San Luis Obispo. She has a minor in Sociology and a concentration in Public Relations. She has always loved poetry, and often wrote poetry growing up. But, in college, as her focus shifted to journalistic writing, she lost her passion for poetry. As she nears her graduation date in 2023, she wants to take classes that enhance her passions and hobbies. So, she is taking a poetry class that reignited her love for writing poetry.
The Gospel According to Nana
Her cocktail hour was sacred
She sipped her dirty martini
With the same reverence
As the blood of Jesus Christ himself
I found out what vermouth was this year on her birthday
I toasted to her in the fifty-cent stemware I bought at goodwill
Celebrate every day.
My sister said her first curse word
In her hand-me-down car seat after a play date with Nana
My dad almost crashed our old Toyota minivan
The one that smelt like spoiled sippy cups
My sister still rarely swears
But Nana would sound real funny saying motherfucker without her dentures in
Say whatever the *fuck* you want to say.
She loved my mother like she was one of her own
Maybe not at the beginning
But now, my mom is the paladin of her chicken cacciatore
The preserver of her cheesecake recipe
The two would giggle in the kitchen
gossiping like schoolgirls
My dad once said he thinks she missed my Nana more than he did
I know that’s not true,
but it’s easier for him to feel my mother’s pain than his own
Family can be the best form of friendship.
My Nana enrolled me in etiquette classes at the club
She would circle the dinner table every Sunday at supper
when we would eat at the fancy dinner table
with salad plates and salad forks
My napkin was always in my lap when she was over
My elbows always at my side
“Forks go on the left, knives on the right.”
I never told Nana
But I can’t tell my left from right
Manners matter.
Her purse was always filled
With tubes of lipstick and newspaper clippings
“A proper lady doesn’t even answer the door without lipstick on”
&
“I thought you’d find this article interesting”
If she loved you,
You better be grateful
when she gifted you the
$9.99 limited-time offer
from QVC
“Isn’t it just darling,” she’d say.
and dammit.
You better say yes.
It’s the little things that matter.
On a rainy day in December,
The girls would all hop in Nana’s car
as she sped down to freeway to Macy’s
(My mom always called her Nana Andretti)
We tried on dozens of Christmas dresses
slinking out of the dressing room
desperately desiring Nana’s approval
Her face would prune, and she would say
“Isn’t that a little short?”
But, every year, us girls
felt beautiful on Christmas Day
Modest… but beautiful
Every relationship requires compromise.
Nana rejected four marriage proposals
before my Papa Jack
She had the kind of eyes
that smiled
and the kind of smile
that lit up the room when she laughed
and a wide-set nose
that came to a peculiar point
and made her face that much more striking
Frank Sinatra once asked her to dance
in a smoky, downtown bar
“Dean Martin was a much better dancer though,
more handsome too.”
We may never know
who Sinatra was really
singing about when he said
“I left my heart in San Francisco”
Beauty never fades.
My Nana loved her chickadees
(That’s what she called us grandchildren)
She loved my hair when it was long
She loved bragging about
how bright we were
how beautiful
how we were blessed by God
in a way, none of her friend’s grandchildren
could possible compare
Love is forever.
Nana,
If you could see me now…
If you could see…
That I drink dirty martinis
And motherfucker is a staple in my vocabulary
And I love shopping, especially around Christmas time
And I may not set the table correctly,
But I always mind my manners
I think you would’ve loved to clip out
the news articles I’ve written
And I wear Dior lipstick
sometimes when I’m running errands.
Sometimes, I listen to Frank Sinatra
And I haven’t cut my hair short since the day you died
And now, I brag to my friends about you
how beautiful you were
how bright you were
how blessed by God, I was
To call you my Nana.