One person I have been thinking of lately is my Nana. I adored both of my grannies, who were and continue to be my role models. They both have been gone for many years, but never forgotten. Rather than pine, which Nana would find absurd, I do something for my kids that my Nana did for me: I make chop-chop eggs and toast and serve them up on Nana's bridge china. How can soft-boiled eggs chopped up with butter and salt and pepper and served with buttery toast be so good? Because Nana made them with love.
One of her many talents was playing duplicate bridge and smiting all her opponents, but always with a smile. I have the dainty plates and cups she used at her bridge parties, and I use them and enjoy the heck out of them, just as Nana always enjoyed life. Nana is still with me.