A nudge from Nana

Today the cashier at the grocery store smelled like my Nana.

I went there to stock up on work snacks and was hurrying through the aisles, grabbing some healthy choices so I could avoid dipping my hands in the bowl of Peanut M&Ms on my coworkers desk. A box of granola bars, a box of vanilla hot tea, and several yogurts later, I arrived at the checkout lane and parked next to the rack of celebrity rags dishing the latest dirt on weddings, babies and scandals.

And then, it was my turn.

She ran my items across the little scan machine with a rhythmic beep, beep, beep and I just stared at her. I’m not sure if was her perfume or clothes detergent or hairspray, but her scent transported me to the living room of my Nana’s house where one of the most comforting, loving women I’ve ever met sat — and suddenly, I really missed her.

She died 10 years ago, a month before 9/11, the same month that I had my wisdom teeth pulled.

And though I don’t think of her all the time, when I do, I miss her terribly. I like to think that at times like today, when I am surprisingly reminded of her presence, that she’s giving me a little nudge from heaven to say hello.

And that makes me happy.

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