My Nana,

Voice cracked when sang in church,

How odd things grand daughters recall,

Me what I recall,

We all can sit with those we love,

Recall nuisances others might never care to take note of,

Nana was pure Norsk,

Norsk means Norwegian,

Lottie Henrietta Starkey was married in nineteen twenty-two at twenty four,

Fourth grade teacher,

One room school teacher,

See her grandaughter Val told no one wanted to teach College history,

Budding historians life history points are a valuable commodity.

Nana loved velvet.

On Iowa farm in Clay County she grew up on no one I betcha knew what velvet was.

The fine young man Nana the teacher artist, writer, musician married shortest of three brothers,

Clarence Ward Bittenger towered about our Nana,

Clarence was six three Nana four.sixish,

Grampa both my grampas were born in eighteen ninty-six,

Nana was born in eighteen ninty-eight,

Never weathy,

Grandma Nana put aside teaching to raise a family,

Lost one baby like her daughter carried the baby to term.

I was eight when I used ‘God’ in front of Nana,

I was not praying,

Nana taught God was only audiblly.used in talking to the deity,

If not in prayer that was not allowed,

I am keenly of the wonders of leanliness but firm should never be emmitted from ones mouth.

Suffice once was enough while Nana was amoung us.

Upon her eightieth birthday Diana was married to Dean Dudley number two.

The Dudleys had a pony,

Dad offered to help Nana take a little ride.

Nana’s daughter thought that a horrid idea,

We have photoes,

Nana took her ride,

Nana wanted after granpa died an adult tricycle,

Her daughters said no like it was foolhardy,

Like Nana my dignified grandmother had no sense,

I want one too,

No inheritance left I rented movers because I was in love,

What a foolish emotion for an empath,

Nana always wanted a chimney and a fire place,

Grandpa when TV’s came out got a TV,

Nana never watched it,

With grampas death Nana got some nice clothes,

New towels her eldest daughter Clarian,

Could be heard across the state of Iowa ‘Oh mother!’

I say if something brings you great joy do it!

Writting brings me great joy,

Blogging vie writting and video,

Fills me with great joy,

Nana got an organ, and velvet furniture,

The Bittenger were frugal,

Mom was Frugil,

When dad dies mother finally started collecting coins and rings,

I never unless with family seen mom so happy,

Diana thought mothers property and funds should be supporting her.

Harrassment ensued with the harsh intimination and words like ‘Oh mother do you really need that!’

Stealing mom’s notebook in October 2014 had her calling constantly,Gaslighting,

Wish you had met Lottie Henritta,

Every spring and fall she’d invite the poor children on her block.

Poor like Nana the Iowa farm kid,

Second youngest of seven children,

I wish Clarian my favorite aunt,

She was dead a year and a half till I found that out on Goggle.

Not one of my family bothered to care I might wish to know.

Lied onto Elder Abuse by Diana who wanted what mother had.

I’d say to Clarian those towels Nana bought weren’t for her,

The new sheets and pillow cases never in Nana’s cupboard unwrapped.

Nana got the same great joy I get giving,

Every year my saintly Norweign ex Spencer Iowa fourth grade teacher wanted poor youths on her block new bedding and a set of towels.

She did it in a vopine way,

All the children and youths were invited to her house when we were there usually.

Games would ensue and a play written by Nana,

Then they was a drawing or two,

Nana wasn’t the Salvation Army,

No one was made to feel poor,

She lived sixteen years after sitting on the pony,

Two of those years Nana was stripped of her rights,

Removed from her home,

Told when to rise,

Dressed like property,

All her dignity removed,

Last time we saw.her in her bed,

Her head stuck in a wig,

In a bed she looked so small,

No one leaves this world with grace or dignity,

She had forgotten Clarian was her eldest daughter,

Nana always knew who mom was,

We never saw her again,

I betcha my grandmas,

Yiddish dad’s mom Agnes Kleeman and Norsk Lottie Henrietta,Dad,Esther Nana’s younger sister moms favorite aunt,Aunt Clarian and Winton moms brother and Aunt Wava cane last June for mom, A cop came to my door to tell me I lost my best friend,

Mom,

I recall the school project Nana helped me with,

Nineteen seventy it was about Ledgend of Sleepy Hollow.

Nana was a gifted artist so many ways,

Faces best,

Nana suggested blonde hair and actually trimmed hair from one of Ellen’s dolls.

Nana had three bedrooms,

Grampa’s Diana had made a painted Eagle it hung there, Grampa’s room was blue,

Clarians was my favorite it was red. I always slept there mom had grandad’s,

Ellen always stayed in Nana’s, Ellen called it the movie stars bedroom. Golden velvet chair by the vanity.

Nana always stayed in her den,

Did we ever did Ellen ever thank her,

I lost Ellen October 2015 never saw her alive again.

We were at Ellen’s youngest son’s daughter Mela’s second birthday party. Ellen said didn’t think you’d want to hug me. Why would she think that?

Diana had Ellen convienced that it was my fault she could not find work she wanted. That is what narcississ do.

I waited for her to come,

I dreamed if her ringing my door, and saying I’m sorry I allowed Diana to do that.

“I never stopped loving you, I was so afraid .”

Diana was with Ellen a few days Diana and Ellen cleaned out all mom had in the bank like thieves.

After Diana left Ellen was found in bed by her second son Dan dead October. My baby sister was fifty-nine.

Last October Diana sent another cop to tell me my baby sister was gone!

Not even my Godson could be bothered to applologize to me!

What a horrible family they became at the narcississ knee sucking her tet of discord.

Ellen I am sure was come for by her eldest son who died as a tube pregnacy and the before mentioned above.

I was Meloncholy all my young gay life then to be thrown away by my blood is unconscionable!

R

V

Published by Val's Whitewolf Media

I'm Val's Whitewolf Media YouTube Channle and I write here on WordPress. I read books and instill others how importand writing stories readers down. in readers their stories matter.I believe that everyone should tell their story and that every book is a learning tool that will help those of us who are writers become better at our craft.I'm learning plus becoming more confident as an empath its important to share and touch with my heart others harmed by others words.

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