Nana Smith’S House: Of Folks & Other Whatnots on Granny’S Shelf

By Davina H. Sanders

Mrs. Jessie Mae Smith, known in Indianapolis as Nana Smith, was tired. It had been a long day, but now the wait began. The old church pew she was seated on held no comfort as she anxiously waited for the visitation to begin . . . if it would. The girls sat quietly beside her, too quietly for nine-year-old twins.

As her mind began to drift, she silently wondered if this was the pew she sat on at JPs funeral. Pleasant Hill United Church had remodeled since then, and the old pews were relegated to the Smith Memorial Fellowship Hall, named so for her beloved JP. Deacon John Paul Smith, who had been a lifelong member of Pleasant Hill, died ten years before. One year later the fellowship hall was renamed in his honor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503540828

Davina H. Sanders

Davina H. Sanders was born in Indianapolis, Indiana, to David L. and Jeanne H. (Porter) Sanders. She’s the oldest of seven children fondly referred to as the Magnificent Seven. She moved with her family to Los Angeles, California, and in 1959, she married, had two children: the late Tyshara G. Bural and Joseph H. Bural. She earned her associate degrees in accounting, commercial food service, and paralegal technology and a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice from Martin University, Indianapolis, Indiana. She was part of the Alpha Kappa Alpha in 1993. She was widowed in 1997 and retired to the Atlanta, Georgia, Metroplex in 2008. This is here statement of belief: “I love God and I can’t make it without Him. I love my family. What brings me joy? Going to my church, my son, Joseph, my family, lending a hand in volunteerism, hanging out with family and friends, reading a good book, watching a funny movie, singing, writing, mahjongg, Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, Bold and the Beautiful, Young and the Restless, and teaching young people.”

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Dedications

• I dedicate this book to God, who gave me the idea for the book and series.

• To my Dad, Pastor D. L. Sanders, who taught me how to read with expression when I was five years old.

• To my Mom, the Late First Lady Jeanne H. Sanders, whose signal of encouragement was always a smile, a wink, and a ‘thumbs up’.

• To my seventh and eighth grade English teachers at IPS 41, the best elementary school in the world!

• To my siblings, the Magnificent Seven: Gerald, Terry, Sylvia, Yvonne, Dawn & the late David, Jr.

• To my late daughter, Tyshara

• To my ever faithful support, Son, Joseph (who has his own Magnificent Seven)

• To my grandchildren and great-grands; my cheering section (two late grandchildren; Quishanna and David)

• Last, but not least, to my late husband; James, a constant reminder of how wonderful reciprocated love can be.

Chapter One

Mrs. Jessie Mae Smith, known in Indianapolis as Nana Smith, was tired. It had been a long day but now the wait began. The old church pew she was seated on held no comfort as she anxiously waited for the visitation to begin … if it would. The girls sat quietly beside her, too quietly for nine-year old twins.

As her mind began to drift, she silently wondered if this was the pew she sat on at JP’s funeral. Pleasant Hill United Church had remodeled since then and the old pews were relegated to the Smith Memorial Fellowship Hall, named so for her beloved JP. Deacon John Paul Smith, who had been a life-long member of Pleasant Hill, died ten years before. One year later the fellowship hall was renamed in his honor.

The visitation clerk approached Nana Smith with a note in his hand. Nana, he said, Ms. Miller’s time has expired for her visit. See you on Saturday. Alright Kevin honey, thank you and have a good night, she replied. Nana turned to the twins and said, Come on Michelle and Tamika, we’ll try again Saturday". At her voice the girls got up and followed her into the elevator and out of the building.

Jessie Mae Smith had been a foster parent longer than she had been a grandmother. When her three children were in college; one son at Butler University and a son & daughter at Ball State University, she decided to make good use of the empty bedrooms and big backyard. Although she didn’t work, she was comfortable, economically speaking. Her bank account allowed her to be at ease.

The children had been taken from their mother, Alana, around Christmas two years ago and Nana Smith had gotten a call at about three a.m., asking if she would take the girls in. They arrived with two trash bags of belongings, still crying and holding hands. She had comforted them and mumbled reassuring phrases between hugs. Eyeing them quickly for size, she found two pairs of flannel pajamas. After warms baths and more reassurances, the girls finally went to sleep. Michelle was a little harder to reach than Tamika but by week’s end, both girls had let their guard down and loved Nana like all the foster children before them. The juvenile justice judge had granted Alana visitation twice weekly at Pleasant Hill United Church; Wednesdays and Saturdays from six to seven p.m. The judge made it plain to Alana, that if four consecutive visits were missed, the visitation order would be vacated. Today’s visit was the third one missed, meaning that Saturday’s visit was her last opportunity to keep the present arrangement intact.

The twins had eaten before going to have a visit with their mother and settled down at the dining room table to finish homework and enjoy a snack of cookies and milk. Do you think Mommy will come to see us Saturday? Tamika asked her sister. Michelle answered softly with a question, What do you think? The twins looked at each other and both shrugged their shoulders without further comment.

Although it was difficult to tell them apart, their personalities were very different. Michelle was 17 minutes older than her sister and demonstrated the role of leader and protector. Soon after their homework was done and Nana had gone over their lessons with them, she heard their prayers and they went to bed. Night night Nana, they called. Good night Babies, she replied. As she descended the stairs, she heard a knock at the front door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Mr. Sakura, the girl’s social worker. She opened the door to his quick apology for coming to call so late.

Mr. Sakura is everything alright? Nana asked. She motioned him to the sofa and offered him a glass of iced tea. He settled on the sofa and took a sip of tea before he began to make clear his impromptu visit. Mr. Sakura soon explained to Nana that he had received a phone call from the Indianapolis Police Department, stating that Ms. Alana Miller had been found dead in a crack house on the south side of town. She had apparently been dead for a couple of days but the cause of death was not yet known. It would surely make the eleven o’clock news tonight and the report would probably be repeated on the seven o’clock news in the morning.

Ms. Miller’s next-of-kin, her sister Alicia, would be arriving in Indianapolis on the next afternoon from San Diego, California. "I came tonight so that you can prepare the girls for whatever is going to happen next. They are not going to be ready for this. I don’t know what their aunt’s plans are but I’ll know more after she arrives tomorrow.

I must be going now, but I will keep you in the loop. Thank you for the tea and good night Nana Smith. Good night Mr. Sakura, and thank you for this information, said Nana as she closed the door. She heard some whispering noises from upstairs and called out to the children. They came running down the stairs crying, Is our Mommy dead Nana? They both crashed into Nana at the bottom of the steps and hugged her tightly asking the same question again. As she silently prayed for strength, she led the sobbing pair to the sofa so recently vacated by the bearer of bad news.

Girls, I don’t have a way of softening the blow and I’m not sure there is a way. According to Mr. Sakura, yes your mom has passed away. Apparently, your Aunt Alicia will be here tomorrow afternoon, but beyond that, I don’t have any other information. I will take good care of you both and we will get through this together. I love you and I really hate that this has happened. I’m very sad that your mom is gone.

Nana sat on the sofa cradling both girls until they finally drifted off to sleep. She prayed that God would give her the right words to say to comfort them as much as possible. After getting Tamika and Michelle settled in their beds and sleeping, she went to her bedroom and turned on the late night repeated news broadcast. It only confirmed what she already knew. Alana Miller, mother of her two foster children was dead. She called their school’s attendance office and left Mrs. Jackson, the clerk, a message. The children would not be attending Birch Bayh Elementary School for a few days . . and maybe not ever again. She drifted off to sleep making a mental list of the things that had to be done in wake of these events.

Thursday morning dawned bright and early with a knock on Nana’s bedroom door. Come in babies, she called while stifling a yawn. Good morning Nana, but we’re late for school. We didn’t wake up in time and you always wake us up. No school today girls. When someone passes away in your family, you’re excused from school. Well what’s going to happen to us now Nana? Tamika asked. I don’t really know yet Honey, but you all are mine until the judge says otherwise. Wash your faces and hands and meet me in the kitchen. Let’s have a Sunday breakfast today!

In the kitchen Nana fixed pancakes, bacon and soft scrambled eggs like a short order cook. As her babies ate, she had her usual: a cup of coffee, boiled egg, oatmeal and orange juice. She was determined to drop fifteen pounds before summer and Palm Sunday was in two weeks. The phone rang, and caller id revealed that the caller was Alicia Miller, the girls’ aunt. She answered on the cordless and walked into the living room as she talked. Ms. Miller introduced herself and informed Nana that her plane would be landing at Indianapolis International Airport at 1:54 p.m. today. She would be renting a car at the airport and would like to stop by and talk to Nana and visit with the girls before going to see Sgt. Kelly at IPD. Nana gave her the west side address of her home and let Alicia know she and the girls would be expecting her.

At 3:45 Nana’s doorbell rang. As Nana went to answer it, the girls approached with interest. They didn’t remember their Aunt Alicia. They had only seen her once, when they were about two years old. They would be ten in August. She kind of looked like their mom, but that’s where the similarities ended. Wow! Michelle thought. She looks like she just came out of the TV. I really like those shoes. She looks like one of those ladies our mom used to call ‘Miss Thang’.

I stopped by and talked with Sgt. Kelly before coming Mrs. Smith, so I can actually slow down a bit, Alicia said in a nervous exhale. Turning toward the twins she said, Well hello young ladies! Look how big you’ve gotten! The last time I saw you guys, you were just toddlers, now look! My sister used to call you Mika and Shellie I think. Isn’t that right? "Now what shall I call you? All my nieces and nephews call me Tee Tee, you know, short for auntie! Is that alright? Wow! I’m sooo glad to see you guys … I mean girls, she gushed.

Nana interrupted Alicia’s nervous chatter by asking her had she eaten. When she replied in the negative, Nana headed to the kitchen to check on dinner and offer Alicia a snack to tide her over. Considering the time difference, it’s about one o’clock to Alicia’s body clock. Nana looked in the oven at the meatloaf and pulled it out long enough to cut about an inch indentation straight down the middle and pour ketchup over it. As she returned the meatloaf to the oven, she mentally added green peas, mashed potatoes & gravy and a tossed salad to the menu. Brown & serve rolls and her iced tea would complete dinner. Hmm … Maybe a little slice … The phone began to ring.

Oh hello Kevin, yes it’s true dear. Well thank you honey, I’d appreciate that. Okay then. Yes, just a moment, Nana paused and turned to the twins. Ladies, she said, You have a phone call. It’s Kevin. Michelle took the receiver from Nana and she and Tamika began to talk excitedly.

Nana went back to the oven, checking on the meat loaf. As she continued dinner she listened