Johanna Beckett
(aka Nana Johanna)

In my previous essay, I mentioned the fact that my Nana Johanna died when my mother was still a teenager, nearly twenty years before my own birth and a full ten years before my parents met. But, I probably didn't mention the fact that Nana's death was the catalyst that brought my parents together. No, I definitely didn't mention that.

Okay, so quick explanation: my Nana was a lawyer, with a special interest in civil rights. She fought for the underdog and did whatever she could to help those less fortunate than herself and her family. My mom was raised in Upper Manhattan, which should tell you a lot about her family's finances and how well she grew up. She attended a private school, where most of the population was the children of diplomats and doctors and the like, so Nana Johanna was pretty much seen as a rich white lady looking to get brownie points for her "charity".

But that's not who she was. Not at all.

According to my grandpa and mom, Nana truly cared about the people she helped. She constantly worked pro bono on domestic violence cases, civil rights violations, and other cases where her clients otherwise wouldn't have been able to afford her. She had a 91% success rate as a defense lawyer, too, so you know she took it seriously. My mom was set to follow in her footsteps when she was accepted into the pre-law undergraduate program at Stanford University.

Then…it happened.

I'd rather not go into all the gory details, for respect of my mother, but a quick internet search of Johanna Beckett will tell you the whole story. There's a foundation set up for her and everything, courtesy of my dad.

Anyway, her death sparked a change in my mom. When she finished her first—and only—year at Stanford, she shifted her focus to criminal justice and transferred to NYU, abandoning her plans of becoming Chief Justice in favor of becoming a Homicide Detective.

And that is where she met my dad.

It's difficult for me to think about the fact that my grandmother's death is the reason I exist, because that means that in any other timeline, I never get to meet her and spend time with her, or hear stories about my mother's childhood with her from her.

But my mom has told me plenty about my Nana Johanna; stories from her own childhood and tales that she heard from my Grandpa Jim about their days together in college. She's even got a few stories from Nana's childhood that her grandparents told her, so that's what I'm going to share with you right now.

Here are a few of my favorites.

When Nana was a young girl, she originally wanted to be…a superhero. Like the kind of superhero that flies through cities and uses her supersonic hearing to rescue people falling off buildings or getting mugged. She was a huge fan of Wonder Woman and my grandpa even has a picture of her in a Halloween costume when she was a teenager, striking the classic WW pose. Sometimes, I believe that her dreams came true, because the way people talk about her…she definitely sounds like a superhero. My mom definitely took after her in that respect.

When Mom was a baby, Grandpa Jim bought a cabin upstate with some kind of advance from work (he was a lawyer too; now retired) and Nana made it her business to start a garden in the fenced off backyard. Grandpa said that she would take my mom out there to work with her every summer. Obviously, as a baby, my mom wasn't much help, but Nana would sing songs to her as she planted new vegetables and flowers, softly lulling her to sleep as she lay in a bassinet. As she grew older, Mom would help and sing with her. My mom's voice is amazing and I can only imagine what Nana sounded like.

Nana Johanna was always 'the cool parent' when my mom was growing up. She always seemed to understand what my mom needed and when she needed it. That's not to say that my mom was never grounded or given realistic limitations, but Nana was a lot more understanding that Grandpa Jim, for sure. He was the kind of dad that freaked out when Mom came home with a leather-clad boyfriend, while Nana just laughed and shook her head. Mom says she always knew when a relationship was doomed, but she never discouraged her from following her heart. Also, she apparently made the best comfort food. My mom has some of her old recipes.

Once, when my mom came home really late at night (like 2am at age 17), Nana was waiting for her in the dark (like you see in movies and tv shows, for real) and my mom said she thought that she was going to be grounded forever, but instead Nana made her to write a letter explaining what was so important that she needed to be out that late and why it was worth making her worry that she had been kidnapped or killed or worse. My mom said that halfway through writing the letter, she began to cry and Nana was there with a plate of cookies and a hug. It was the first and probably only time that my mom was completely okay with being grounded for two weeks and she never did something like that again.
Years later, she used the same tactic on me. It worked.

Christmases were always my Nana's favorite, because it meant hot chocolate and colorful decorations and spending as much time with her family as possible. As lawyers, she and Grandpa Jim didn't get a lot of time to spend with their only daughter, outside of holidays and the small vacations they took in the summer up at the cabin, so when Nana got a full week every year between Christmas and New Year's, she made sure to make good use of every second with my Mom. They went skating in Rock Center, gazing up at the beautifully lit tree and sipping hot chocolate to keep warm. They went to all the different shops on Fifth Avenue, marveling at the bright window displays and trying on ugly Christmas sweaters. Whenever my mom found something that she loved but couldn't afford to buy with her own allowance, it was almost a sure bet that she'd find it under the tree on Christmas Day. Once again, she continued the tradition for me and my brothers, so I'm forever grateful to my Nana Johanna for everything she's given us.

My family has never been super religious, but I kind of hope that there is someplace in the afterlife where Nana is waiting up for us. I'd really love to meet her someday, to thank her and tell her that, despite never having met before, I love her so much.

Thanks, Nana Johanna, for all you've given our family.