Nana: My grandmother, Anne Gillis
	Author: Robert Gillis Published: 2006-01-13
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Customer comments on this selection. A Wonderful Book for the Entire Family In reading Nana, My Grandmother, Anne Gillis, I knew it would be a very personal story by Robert Gillis, but I wasn't prepared for the emotional impact that it would have upon me. The pages depict a very special relationship between the author and his remarkable grandmother whom he called "Nana." Sadly, in today's global society, many families are separated by great distances, and the youth often don't have the opportunity to really get to know their grandparents. Even if they have the opportunity, I wonder how many take advantage of it--if they truly understand what they could glean from these wise senior citizens whose minds hold family secrets and intriguing stories regarding their heritage. Grandparents are a living legacy; however, love, time and communication are necessary to reap the benefits. Robert Gillis proves this to be true. The author begins by taking readers to Cape Breton, Nova Scotia where he provides them with the family lineage for Nana beginning with her grandparents. He describes the rural, farming village of Glendale where Nana was born on May 20, 1902. The background of the family is presented interestingly enough to appeal to all readers which demonstrates the author's talent and is pertinent to understanding Nana as well as the other family members. Mr. Gillis is obviously proud of his heritage and plans a future visit to Glendale. Nana, at the age of 17, left her homeland and went to the United States with her older sister Mary. In Boston she did secretarial work and cooked and cleaned for rich families. Because Nana worked hard and saved her money, she was able to send for her parents in 1929. Other than one brother, all the surviving Gillis children--as well as an uncle--eventually moved near Boston. Nana's only son, Robert Joseph Gillis, was born on March 7, 1937 in Medford, Massachusetts. Because Nana was never married, most of the circumstances regarding Bobby's birth remained a mystery. People in the 1930's were unforgiving toward unwed mothers; therefore, it took a strong woman to keep and raise her son, especially with her time restraints and work schedule. She referred to herself as Miss Gillis and referred to Robert as her nephew. Sadly the two of them were never close; however, with the passage of time, though Nana did not openly display affection toward her son, there were signs of veiled love. In 1941 Nana, who had training as a nurse, purchased a large house in Dorchester--a beautiful mansion where she and Bobby would live. However, this intelligent and hard-working woman also had other plans for the 12-room house on 10 Trull Street. After making the necessary renovations, she operated it as Uphams Corner Rest Home which was a boarding home for elderly persons. Nana worked unceasingly as she bathed and dressed patients, fed them home-prepared meals, washed their clothes in a washtub, and dealt with city inspectors who always found clean and healthy patients. Despite the challenges, this determined woman did very well financially and was extremely generous when it came to loaning money to family members. In 1965 she went out of business and began renting rooms in the home to tenants. Nana's son Bobby married a lovely woman named Marguerite in January of 1964--a woman Nana truly liked and one who would help look after her in her later years. Then Bobby, Jr., the author of this book, and his sister Theresa were born. When little Bobby was five or six, his grandmother offered to pay him some small change if he would bring newspapers to her home during the weekdays. He agreed and the ten minute visits were the beginning of a long and wonderful relationship that developed between the two of them. When he was older, Bobby, Jr. worked alongside his father who had been doing most of the work in maintaining the house on 10 Trull Street. Though he didn't graduate from high school, the older Bobby could fix anything and, despite his lack of parental supervision while growing up, he was a sensitive and kindhearted man. This reviewer saw many examples of these same qualities in his mother. After the older Bobby died, his son took over the upkeep of Nana's house. Regardless of how busy his schedule was, Bobby managed to spend quality time with his grandmother, listening to her tell the same intriguing stories over and over, taking her on trips, helping her shop and, of course, making repairs on her home. Many of his wonderful memories were--and still are--associated with 10 Trull Street, and readers will enjoy his description of the various activities that took place there. This book is extremely well-written and contains valuable information as to how one can help senior citizens with their needs. The author loved his grandmother, recognizing her exceptional qualities and acknowledging that--like all of us--she wasn't perfect. He helped her when she was recovering from an illness or accidental injury; he made tough decisions when he realized that she could no longer care for herself. At the appropriate time, Bobby--though his heart was aching--gave her permission to let go of this life so that she could be with other family members in Heaven. This sweet and inspiring book is one that entire families will enjoy. Just as Nana gave so much to her grandson, he gives so much to readers. Review by an Independent Professional Book Reviewer Nancy Morris of Allbooks Reviews says Genre: Biography/non-fiction Title: Nana: My grandmother, Anne Gillis AUTHOR: Robert Gillis In the 1930's being a single mother was not only shocking, it was a challenge overcome by only the strongest of women. Anne Gillis was such a woman, and with her stubborn determination she managed to take care of her and her son's financial needs, and went on to leave an indelible imprint on the next generation as well. Robert Gillis has written an extraordinary tribute to his uniquely lovable grandmother, Anne Gillis. The story follows her from her birth in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, through her years as a dutiful nurse to the elderly as the soul proprietor of Uphams Corner Rest Home, to the humorous and bittersweet final years of her life. With great pride and honesty, the author does a remarkable job of remembering and relating the part of the story that occurs during his childhood as if he were still using the eyes of a child. It is also with great skill that he captures the poignant moments near the end of a life well lived, as well as the grief of those who have been deeply affected by it. Biography can often be a difficult genre: to produce an enjoyable and moving book, the author needs to have true passion for his subject. There is no doubt Robert Gillis has the required intense-love, and the result is that the reader is privileged to call Anne Gillis a new friend. Robert Gillis lives in Foxboro, Massachusetts, where he works as a computer programmer and writer for a local paper. A wonderfully sweet book, I strongly recommend it. Reviewer: Nancy Morris, Allbooks Reviews. Great Dear Bobby:Wonderful reading! I did not skip a word. I would love to join you when you travel to visit your roots. I have met folks from that area in my travels and found them to be hard working,warm loving folks. Your so called cousins "Mac Masters" Delivered meals on wheels and many other charitable acts of kindness to the elderly. Lonnie and Lollie are very special people. I would love to be there when the strawberries are ripe,they tell me they are the best. They also have Harness Racing and I have met several in my travels around the different tracks that came from there. You have shared a remarkable relationship with Nana and can look back with great pride that you made her life happier because of your unselfish devotion and love. Thanks for sharing. Love to you and Sue Bob Introduction by the author My name is Robert Gillis and I am the author of this book. For anyone who has ever loved a senior citizen, this book will touch your heart. Anne Gillis, my Nana. I loved her dearly. What began as a stop to drop off the newspaper blossomed into a very special responsibility lasting over two decades. I visited her daily since I was five; I shopped for her, watched out for her, took care of household repairs as I got older, and listened as she talked about her remarkable life. After Nana died, I started writing about her, and found that there could be no better way to accept her passing than by celebrating her life. This book is a very personal, special story that I would like to share with you. The eighth of eleven children, Annie was born to David and Mary Gillis in Glendale, Inverness County, on Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, on May 20, 1902. After a childhood living on the Glendale farm, at the age of 17 she and her sister Mary arrived in Boston in search of work to help the family and start new lives. In 1937, she gave birth to her only child, Robert. In 1941, now a nurse, she purchased 10 Trull Street in Dorchester and opened the Uphams Corner Rest Home, which she operated for over twenty years. She lived quietly at 10 Trull Street for 54 years, which she opened to tenants in the 1960s. Her regular visits were her daughter-in-law, Marguerite, and her grandchildren, Bobby and Theresa. Her son Robert took care of the house repairs until his death in 1984. She died at the age of 91 from complications of a stroke on November 16, 1993. But she was so much more than that. A person isn't just a few lines in an obituary, a few sentences scribbled in a newspaper. She was my Nana, and I loved her dearly. She led an interesting, remarkable life, and I was part of it for nearly three decades. Her life mattered. I'm a better person for having known her. Nana never had much company; Mom handled the bills and made the twice-weekly visits with us in tow, and Dad continued to do repairs as long as he could, but I was Nana's only regular visitor. That daily stop began when I was five years old. When I was little, the visit was a good living - Nana gave me a dime or quarter when I stopped in, and shoveling the snow would bring in one or two dollars. Nana loved to talk, and we spent nearly an hour every day chatting. There were many stories that were repeated again and again, but I know Nana liked to tell them, and I never really minded. As I got older, I became more interested in the family history, and I'd ask Nana questions. I heard the stories of Glendale, Nana's hometown in Cape Breton Nova Scotia, and the adventures and stories of her family and friends of long ago. I learned about the Glendale fiddle players and step dancers, Nana's love of the Gaelic language and Scottish heritage, her eight brothers and sisters, life on the farm, the miners of Sydney, coming to America when she was 17 to work, and memories of her dearest friend, Sister Andrea MacVarish, who lived to be 103. As I grew up, I was able to do more. I made her dinner every night and took her shopping. When I started driving, I tried to take her out every now and then; it always did her good. We took other trips as well, and on three occasions we flew to Maryland to visit her sister Florence. Nana was a like a little kid when we traveled and an excellent companion. It was on one of those visits to Maryland that I finally realized that Nana was aging and my time with her would be finite. At Florence's house, Nana had grown confused about where she was, and we sat up and talked for almost an hour. Nana talked about her fears of losing Florence, who'd been ill, and then she said something she had never said before. "Bobby, I'm getting old and I don't want to die." Nana went on to explain that she was very afraid. She was starting to forget things and not recognize familiar places. I felt so bad and tried to imagine how she must feel, to have lived all those decades and suddenly be so confused about simple things. I listened for a long time, just holding her hand and reassuring her that everything was fine. Finally, I said, "Nana, I've always done my best to help take care of you and I promise you that as long as I'm around, you're going to be fine. I will stay right here with you and I won't let anything happen to you. I promise you that I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. I've always been there for you. I promise that I'll watch over you and take care of you." I'd long since accepted my responsibility toward Nana, but that night put things in a new light. For the first time, I acknowledged that Nana really was getting old, and it occurred to me how often Nana thought about her mortality, and how much she feared being alone. I promised myself that as long as I was alive, Nana would never be alone. For another four years, I visited Nana almost every day. Then, she took a bad fall in June 1992 and finally needed to leave her home, and became a resident of Saint Joseph Rest Home in Dorchester, where she received excellent care. Mom and I continued to visit her regularly. Nana flourished at Saint Joseph. The stroke she suffered in August of 1993 left her in a vegetative state, and mercifully God took her only four months later. One of the greatest blessings God ever gave me was allowing me to be with Nana when she died. I know she was aware that I was right there, saying the rosary, holding her hand as she died. We buried Nana on my 29th birthday. Losing Nana devastated me. Even losing Dad wasn't a blow of this magnitude. Suddenly, I had no one to take care of. I didn't need to be anywhere in the evening anymore. And I hated it. I hated not being able to see Nana and help take care of her. The years passed and I grieved, and I ended up writing a book about Nana and her life. It was part journal, and part grief therapy. It ended up being a loving tribute. I always thought I was the one doing the care taking, but Nana took care of me. She was my best friend growing up - I just didn't know it. If things were bad at school, I could go to Nana's. If I was upset at home, I could go to Nana's. We never had heart-to-heart conversations and I rarely told her my problems, but somehow just being with her - in a place where I was unconditionally loved and accepted - made all the difference. Even if everything else was going wrong, I could see Nana, make her a cup of tea or something to eat, or do some work on the house. Nana took care of me in ways she never imagined. This recent realization has helped me to understand just why losing Nana was so absolutely devastating, and the unexpected truth that I grew up, and stopped being a kid, on the day Nana died. The Good Lord helps us heal over time. Nana's death hasn't hurt for a long while, but I miss her stories, the complaining about her arthritis, the Cape Breton accent, and just feeling so happy to be with her. Nana gave me so much. It's because of Nana that I love senior citizens so much, and recognize them for the treasure they are. It's because of her that I am interested in my family history, and history in general. It's because of her that I want to help other people. Despite her melancholy and often-gloomy outlook on life, she was wiser than she ever imagined and made a great difference in my life. For that and so much more, I am so very grateful to her. This is our story. Please visit www.NanaGillisBook.com for photos, more information, and more of my published writing.
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