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  • Writer's pictureTony Frobisher

She Was Ma' Nana

She Was Ma’ Nana

L-R Me, Nana, my brother Stuart

She was ma' Nana.

Bessie. Blessed with the warmest heart.

Kindness she poured into every hug

And oft brewed mug of tea.

No chance of quiet, when yer Nana's laughin' again.

Or singin' or wakin' hersel wi' her snorin'.

Married her proud Ernest, and never a stronger bond

‘Twixt Scots lass and northern lad would e'er exist.

She was ma' Nana.

With grace flowing in her happy veins

And a face always shining with a generous smile.

And a wee tune on her lips, dusting her Toby Jugs.

I never heard a cross word emit in her Borders Scots voice. An accent that lilted, rising and falling mellifluous, like a gentle tidal swell.

She was ma' Nana.

A hearty appetite fer a bity-cake, a sticky-willy wi' a load a' icing and a wee sherry on a Sunday lunch. And that laugh

That packed a punch, hit you right in the feels and Wrapped you in a tight embrace, a lavender scented hug of love.

My Dad said when ma' Nana laughed, everything was on the move. You couldnae fail to laugh along wi' her.

She was ma' Nana.

Deck chaired, fair-greying curls of hair.

Hitchin' her britches by ice-creamed beaches

Aglow with her porcelain-skin Scottish tan.

But that was ma' Nana. Lived life to the full.

Fresh packets of treats and sweets on the go,

Full of vitality and fun, a smile as warm as the sun.

She was ma' Nana.

I feel her hug more than 20 years since her final laugh.

Gone for a wee nod in the sky, decorating Heaven's deckchairs and singing her Scots tunes,

'entertaining the troops' she'd tell us.

Where me and my true love will never meet again

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'

Ah, but Grandad's wi' ya the now eh hen?

Send him oor love too.

Aye, fer now Nana. ‘Til we meet again.

She was ma’ bonnie, gid Nana.

She was ma' Nana.

In memory of my Nana, Bessie Frobisher - loved and missed every day

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