Back then, late at night, I could glide swiftly down the stairs in my silk princess gown, past my mother's bedroom, glowing tv static peeking from the cracks of her door. In the kitchen, I would look for leftover sweets from my loving Nana. Now the stairs creak with every toe. The slightest bit of pressure on the old russet wood could stir the whole block from their dreams of leaving that small town they called home. As a child, I couldn't imagine there was more to the world than where I was. All I knew was this paltry, idle town. Now I too dream of those far away places. I wonder what I will do when I grow older and depart from my former self. I would leave my monochrome life behind and travel to my unknown. Nonetheless, the sweet memories of my childhood drift into my brain like the smell of Nana's freshly baked chocolate chip cookies would sail through the house in the evening. I would give the whole world for one more kiss goodnight from the woman I loved best; one more hug with the itchy wool rubbing against my soft cheek; one more piano song to dance to in the den. I just want to hear her mellifluous voice one more time.

Ruby Virginia was Nana's name. Back then I didn't know I was named after her. I didn't even know Nana was called anything other than Nana. As a toddler, I hated my name. All I wanted was to change my name to Julia. To me, Julia was a name for a princess, far superior to old Ruby. Now that I'm aware I share the same name as Nana, I am proud to be called Ruby. Now I know that Nana wasn't just Nana. She was Ruby; daughter, wife, mother, widower, and soldier. She was so much more than I ever realized.  

Then I use to take Nana's red lipstick, her big white stilettos, and WAVES (women accepted for volunteer emergency service) pins while she wasn't home and I would play dress up. Now I dread dressing in such attire and I keep Nana's pins in a box along with her old mirror and the last birthday card she gifted to me. However, when needed, I still drag out the white stilettos and old dresses, but now they aren't as big as I remembered. Back then the dresses would drape over me like a raggedy sheet, now they form well to my figure. Then I would clop around in the heels with my little toes curled to keep them on, trying not to fall. Now they run a bit small but I still struggle to keep myself upright. There's nothing I wouldn't give to see my Nana in her favorite dress, her vibrant red lipstick, and her stark white heels again.

Back then she was energetic and lively. She was full of tales from her past, things she had heard when she was little and unique stories of her own. Then when she talked she used her hands to gesture, like a bird flying through the air back and forth to its nest. When telling jokes; she would laugh so hard you couldn’t understand the punch line. Now she doesn’t remember those stories or jokes, she can’t even find her voice to tell them. She can’t remember her chocolate chip cookie recipe. She doesn't remember her closest friends who have passed. She doesn’t remember the old piano in the den. She doesn’t remember her sons and daughters. She doesn’t remember her own name. Dementia stole her and left an empty, vacant shell of what she was then. Now she can’t recall all the times she and her friends would sit at the table drinking cocktails and smoking cigars as I hid under the table learning all the dirty words I wasn’t allowed to say. Now she doesn’t remember her favorite white shoes or WAVES pins. She doesn’t remember anything from back then. Now she doesn’t even remember me. Time has erased all of Nana’s sweet memories.