Nancy June McCrackin, our tap dancing, Mustang-driving, Shih Tzu-loving, and always perfectly posed Nana, passed away the morning of May 2, 2018.
Long before she became our beloved Mother and Nana, “Nancy November” knew what it meant to be adored. She was the only child of Hazel and Cecil McCrackin, owners of the Sapulpa Feed Store, and spent her childhood on the receiving end of handmade dresses, ballet classes, and little sweets from the family business, saved just for her.
The Miss Sapulpa pageant runner-up and Homecoming Attendant fell madly in love with her “little brown boy” Sonny Long, with whom she later confessed she only married to have babies as pretty as he was handsome. She eloped with him to Claremore when she was 16. Nancy was afraid to tell her father about the marriage, so the newlyweds kept their elopement a secret and Nancy spent the first nights of her marriage still sleeping under her parents’ roof. The couple went on to have two daughters, Jeanean and Lisa, and Nancy was only a little disappointed that only one ended up looking like their father.
Self-deprecating throughout her life, Nancy was an all arounder but never admitted as much. She could sew, trim a hedge, rock a baby to sleep, file her taxes, dance the Charleston, make tabouli, and talk a family member through a crisis. She loved to eat chile rellenos at Arizona and pimento cheese sandwiches at home and if she had to deliver bad news she would pour a glass of Amaretto to share. She had a lifetime of puppies but maybe loved Mac and Trudie, her companions during retirement, the best. She was notoriously frugal and loved to chase a good deal. She loved to tackle a project, and most always chirped “sure!” when telephoned early on a Saturday morning and asked to go run errands. When her husband Ron bought a food trailer, Nancy took on entrepreneurship, confidently frying pork rinds and pouring sodas at car shows and carnivals. She had a lifetime love affair with dancing movies and Patrick Swayze, commenting that she liked “the way that man moves” whenever Dirty Dancing aired.
Our Nana delighted in the unexpected. She loved to hide a green, ceramic pickle ornament in the Christmas tree and play “Nana Claus” for her grandchildren. She loved costumes, gift-giving, and making you guess which ingredients she threw in a recipe. In 1997 she bought herself a ’66 Ford Mustang identical to one she drove in her youth. She loved to be asked how much her husband “would take for the car” so she could wryly answer that there was no husband and that the car was hers. When a former boss warned her that she “had no talent for numbers” she made up her mind to make her career in accounting. Nancy’s wit and perseverance always surprised those who underestimated her.
Nancy relished her independence. She reigned over her own home, walked with her friends in the early mornings, participated in the newsletter committee and book club, and took her great-grandchildren to the pool for afternoon swims. Her years at The Timbers were among her happiest.
We have not lost our lovely little Nana forever; she still participates in each thought and decision we make, and she leaves an imprint of humor, self-sacrifice, and devotion on our memories. We take comfort in knowing that Nana is home with “Mother and Daddy” and that each of our lives are better because she loved us.
Nancy is remembered by her daughters, Jeanean (Kevin) Diehl and Lisa (John) Marshall. She is loved and adored by seven grandchildren Jessica (Jared) Ullrich, Colin Coleman, Abra Coleman, Erin Coleman, Cecil Marshall, Pearson Marshall, and Christian (Alyssa) Marshall, and will be spoken about for years to come to four great-grandsons, Hugh, Henry, Onyx, Theodore, and (“finally!”) one great-granddaughter, a baby girl due in July.
Nancy’s service will be held on Friday, May 11 at 10:30 am at Dove Ministry at 2833 W. Main St., Jenks, OK.
In lieu of flowers, our family asks that donations be made to the Porta Caeli House, whose attentive staff and volunteers helped make Nancy’s final days peaceful and dignified. And we ask that in honor of our Nana, who most certainly met St. Peter with a pocket full of stolen sweeteners, that you slip a Splenda packet in your pocket next time you get a chance.
