On May 26th, in the year 1916, an angel was born to Rasmus and Sally Mahady, in their coal-mining camp home of Crumpler, WV.

She spelled her title "Nana" most of the time; though my cousins and I were quick to call her "Nanny" in all our southern glory. Somewhere along the way, I added "Potts".

You are no longer here with me my sweet; but your spirit is threaded through every fiber of my being. I remember your ways, your thoughts, your testimony of survival...I remember all that made you who you were while you were here with me; with our family.

I believe in you, and that you still live...because I know we never really die just because the heart stops beating within these temples we fill. We leave this place. Who am I to think that all there is, or ever will be of hope, is only what we see in our little here and now? I know better, and so I don't think such things at all. And though I don't know what it is that holds you, or just where it is you are now, I do know there is a somewhere.... beyond what this finite brain can comprehend. I am humbled enough through the living part to know this much, at least.

Happy Birthday, Angel Of Mine! I love you always...Your Tracy

She always leaned to watch for us,
Anxious if we were late,
In winter by the window,
In summer by the gate;

And though we mocked her tenderly,
Who had such foolish care,
The long way home would seem more safe
Because she waited there.

Her thoughts were all so full of us --
She never could forget!
And so I think that where she is
She must be watching yet...  (anonymous)