Episode 36: Jami Longo

November 11, 2018

My nana loves watching birds. She knows everything about them. There’s a glass door in her kitchen to her backyard where she has a bird feeder. Whenever I go over to her house, we would sit together, her cat Shadow would sit with us, and we would watch the birds.
When I ask nana about a bird, she would know the type, and the specific bird because they come every day. Everything in her house is bird themed.

She would talk about my grandfather a lot, who’s passed away. Sometimes, she will say “Jami, last night, papa was here… He visited me…. he just said hi.”

Other times, she would tell me things I didn’t know before. Like, apparently my grandfather wasn’t around when she was going through her first labor. He was working and couldn't get work off. She didn’t want him to worry so she didn’t tell him that she was headed to the hospital to give birth to their child.
——————--
If med school didn’t work out, I wanted to be a writer. My first and only book would be about my nana.
——————--
My nana’s mom died when she was 10. Nana says she was very loving, and fun, but passed away from breast cancer at the age of 32. Nana was the oldest sibling of 3. When her mother died, her and her siblings were left with her father, an alcoholic and a crappy person all around. Nana had to grow up very quickly, become the mother figure, and deal with her abusive father.
When nana was 11, her and her siblings got dropped off at a Catholic orphanage. The way she used to tell me stories about her time in the orphanage, it always seemed so fun, like a great time. I realize how naïve that is, but you would never catch nana talking about how hard it was. I didn't even know she was there because her father was a drunk. I learned that much, much later.
——————--
My nana would tell us stories about the nuns that ran the orphanage. The nuns would always give her chores, but she would never be kept in the same chore. She would get “fired” from them because she would always get in trouble. She was told that she had to wax the floors. But instead of pushing the wax cleaner, she would ride the wax cleaner. She would then be told to clean up the mess, but instead of cleaning the floor, she would dance with the mop. When she was told to do the laundry, she would wear the clothes and play dress up with the smaller kids. My favorite one was when she got the “big honorable job”-bringing the priest his dinner on a cart. She just rode the cart for fun, and she got reprimanded by the priest. The only chore she never got fired from was cooking meals for the little baby boys. She always loved babies.
Those were the stories I grew up with. Everyone wanted nana to be a little obedient girl, instead she was just free.
——————--
As I grew older, I heard other stories.
She had a hideout, like the cupboard under the stairs in Harry Potter, where she would go when she got in trouble. She would say she used to think she was the worst behaving girl there, and would get physically sick before confession. Piecing those stories together, I slowly started realizing that, maybe her childhood wasn’t all that great. Maybe it was unimaginably hard. Maybe she acted out in the orphanage because she was finally free to have some fun, she was finally out of her father’s abusive house hold. And nothing would ever be as bad as that. Getting in trouble… being reprimanded….she was just a kid.
——————--
She met my grandfather when she was 16. He was a carefree, gentle, and fun guy who respected women. They had 4 girls together. For nana, being the parent of 4 girls was in a way, her freedom. She got to raise 4 great women. Her husband was in the army, and so women ran the family.
Women in my family are strong because of my nana. That's how we were raised. They may not be high up in business or be ridiculously well educated, but they are strong women. They are strong women for who they are, for the relationships they have, for the way they support each other.
When my aunt got breast cancer, the same illness that took away my nana’s mom, my aunts stuck together. It was a family process. My aunt was not going to go through that alone.
That comes through my sister and I. We are very close, and we will have each other’s back no matter what. We would never back down from anything together.
——————--
I realize I am very like my nana and my mom.
My nana is very stubborn, and relentlessly independent. She’s reaching 80, and lives alone, my papa died 10 years ago. She will be painting on ladders, fixing broken doors and won’t accept help. My family will all meet together on Christmas, and suddenly it’s 8 o’clock and someone says “where’s nana?” No one’s seen her. Turns out, she left. Doesn’t say good bye to anyone, hates it, just goes home, doesn’t want anyone to worry about her.
I grew up with both of my parents. They are both supportive. It’s completely different than my grandmother’s life. They gave me the attitude that “I can do anything” but I still feel like I had to do things on my own. Or maybe, I made it so I had to do it on my own, that my decisions were my own. Whenever my parents would try to support me, I would tell them “I need to do this on my own.”

My mom’s side of the family, filled with so many strong women I look up to, have always had the mentality “you need to be doing what makes you happy for yourself.” I want to be like them, to be one of the amazing women of the family. They are such a strong presence in my life.

I didn't realize the weight of my grandmother’s stories, and the life that she lead until I was older. I am her legacy.
——————--

The book that I would write would be a fiction novel about nana’s life.

Her life in the orphanage would be fascinating, sometimes unbelievable. Her character would have so much depth, and the story would be filled with the friendships she made there.

And best of all her love for my grandfather would top it all. It’s the type of story that if you didn't believe in love, and heard this story, you would believe it.

One time my nana and grandpa came home after drinking, they were having so much fun, and she just fell in their room and couldn’t get back up, and they were both just laughing and laughing the night away. When my papa was dying, they decided instead of being sad about it and go through a million treatments, to rent a car and drive across the country together. They decided to go to all the places they wanted to go together. They were true, down to the bone, best friends, soul mates.

This is the story that I grew up hearing. It's a fantasy, but it's also a real one.

It would make such a beautiful novel.

What are your 5 Most Recently Played Artists on Spotify? Frank Ocean, Brand New, Bon Iver, Kanye West, Leon Bridges

If you could have any superpower, which one would you choose? Communicate with animals – that way I could always tell my pet that I’ll be back and not to worry when I leave the house (so sad every time)

Pick something or someone from NYMC go give out a shout of to!: Murad and the boys at the furnace – for making me laugh the hardest I’ve laughed since coming to NYMC during the "Never Have I Ever" card game.

If someone wanted to talk to you, they should lead with…: Want to hear what I had for dinner last night? Or anything related to food, really