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My grandmother, Nana, was always cooking. When we stayed overnight as kids, she would make us her Swedish Pancakes; she always had coffee and cake for us to eat when we visited, when we got older.
Coffee was a big thing for Nana; she always made it in her percolator on the stove.
My wife and I purchased Nana an electric Farberware coffee pot. NOPE! LOL, Nana refused to use it; it was always that pot on the stove.
About a year ago, during the week before Christmas, I was smelling coffee at eleven o’clock every night. I am not near anyone who would be making coffee that time of night, not to mention my neighbors are too far from me to smell it even if they did. I knew it was Nana visiting me, at least I was pretty sure it was her.
When Christmas morning arrived, I woke as usual and made myself a cup of coffee in our Keurig coffee maker. I heard something as I began walking away with my coffee. I turned, and the reservoir top of the Keurig came off and flew at me. I had to duck. I instantly knew that was Nana, she would have never put up with that maker. I began to laugh, yes, it was her who was visiting me.
Nana was tough, strong, and often stubborn. Food and coffee were her life.
Nana and others are always around me here in my house. There are so many things that happen here, I know I have an American Indian here, I live on Indian Hill Rd because this is an area in town they inhabited, at the top of the hill, there is an old cemetery, it’s said to hold old sea captains as well as some Native Americans, but no one is sure. I am sure one of their souls visits me often.
I make the pancakes to this day; I still have the recipe card I typed out on a three-by-five card. I hope you enjoyed this video & my story.
Always remain hopeful, never hopeless. Always be optimistic, never pessimistic.