Her name was Bertha Mae Coombs, but we called her Nana.┬áSometimes we used to call her “Westbrook Nana” because we had another great grandmother we referred to as “Norway Nana”, but most of the time we simply called her “Nana”. Nana lived, for as long as I could remember, in Westbrook, Maine – right next to a church. When I was little, Westbrook was home to a functioning paper mill – and upon entering the city limits, my siblings and I would grimace and plug our noses and say “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeew” in the car with our aunts or our parents due to the rotten egg smell of the mill. We would park in front of Nana’s place, walk up the steps to the apartment hallway…