WINDHAM – A Remembrance: Patty to some, Patricia to others, and Nana to those fortunate enough to be related to her or at least married to someone who is. Also, Mrs. Small to her students when she was a teacher. This missive will not cover all the wondrous traits and accomplishments of Patricia Small. It is not possible.

That would be a biographical tome stuffed with 92 years of selfless deeds, great and small, and even then, many would be left behind in the hearts, minds, and souls of all those who have stumbled into Nana’s orbit. But rest assured, new stories, anecdotes, and recollections will continue to be unearthed for decades to come.

Something perplexing happened on Monday, Aug. 10, 2026. For the first Monday in over 92 years, Patricia Ann Small was not on the earth. She passed away on Friday, Aug. 7, 2026. This is not one of those laid-up-in-bed deaths when someone has been slowly deteriorating for years, on multiple medications, needs 24 hour assistance to get by, and does not appear to be deriving much joy from their everyday existence. Not disparaging that scenario, but this was not that. Life was a blank canvas for Nana and she painted masterpieces every single day. Also, Nana was omnipresent to many people and a few words cannot encapsulate the essence of all she was to all people and what she always will be to generations of family, friends, and anyone else fortunate enough to share time with her.

Nana savored the life she was living, never wasting a day, always looking forward to the next visit or phone call. Waking up early each morning, sometimes too early, according to Nana. She would eat half a cookie or savor remnants of a Tony’s Donut or devour her daily ration of peanut butter on toast and then settle into her recliner to wait for Squawk Box to come on. Nana had a keen interest in business and real estate and home shows where people rehabbed houses and “flipped” them. She was not a napper although she did “rest her eyes” throughout the day while ensconced in her recliner.

Nana may have been 92 years old, yet age never diminished her desire to undertake all the endeavors she enjoyed. Age was not a barrier to her. Sure, maybe she wasn’t going to scamper and bound around any longer but she rarely missed any events and endeavors involving family. Two weeks ago Nana hosted her traditional Friday lunch with her son Craig and his friend Rick. It was a vital component of her weekly routine. Nana and Craig had a unique 66-year-old bond that was never severed by the vagaries of time. She continued to host weekly bridge card games with longtime friends. She went for her daily walk. “Getting my steps in” she would say as she commenced her walk through her neighborhood. She continued to talk to her daughter on the phone twice each day and other grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and children had weekly calls with her.

She regularly welcomed Cathy, Jackie, Margaret, and so many others into her home for conversation and perhaps coffee and a treat. Nana’s life was atypical for a 92 year old human. She continued to live life and love life with her heart, body, mind, and soul.

She was visited by family and friends in the days leading up to her passing. There were great-grandchildren, grandchildren, children, nieces and nephews, cousins, her brother and old (yes, old) friends that came by to relish in her smile one final time. There was a steady parade of people seeking one last beaming smile, on last hand-hold, a final “love you”, and perhaps some reassurance that your world will be okay when she was gone.

Born on May Day in 1934, Nana witnessed the invention of the diaper, chemotherapy, acrylic paint, hair spray, cat litter, color televisions, Frisbees, credit cards, leaf blowers, the wiffle ball, TV dinners, nuclear submarines, spandex, Brillo pads, 7-11, McDonalds and many essential items every household needs. Nana was not behind the times, she was not ahead of the times, she was a woman of the times. She was hanging out on her iPad less than two weeks ago, perusing her investments, sending emails, hunting down electronic coupons, and lamenting those ubiquitous hackers clogging up her iPad.

All eight of her grandchildren insist they were Nana’s favorite person. There have been arguments about the subject. That was because they are all correct. When you were connecting with Nana the universe became very small because only you mattered. Your words were not only listened to, they were heard. You were the most important person in the room. She was the last of the Silent Generation, people who worked 30, 40, sometimes 50 years for the same company, were the foundation of the civil rights movement, and revered family values, especially listening and learning. Nana cultivated close relationships with her grandchildren through phone calls, texts, visits, and iPad FaceTime calls. She wanted to know how school was a going, whether it was a second grader or a college senior. Nana wanted to know if you liked your job, what you did last weekend, what kind of music you listened to, the shows you currently streamed, and what kind of orange juice you drank (pulp or no pulp). No subject was off limits. You could recite Walden by Henry David Thoreau and she would listen to you.

If you knew Nana and visited with her, or spoke to her over the phone you most assuredly realize that, as a mere human, Nana may have been a tiny speck in the universe, yet she was a giant in your world.

Other than the occasional broken bone, bad hip, or other ailment, Nana never stopped moving, taking daily walks around her neighborhood, stopping to talk with neighbors and friends along the way. Not long ago, on Coach Road in South Portland, she swam daily in the pool, knowing that once you stop moving, the world morphs into a very tiny place.

Patricia Ann (White) and her husband Howard Hamlin Small had a lifelong love affair of 57 years. They complimented each other incomparably. He was the stem, she was the flower, the children were the roots. Raising four children in the 1960’s and 1970’s on Chase Street in South Portland, Patty and Howard (perfectly nicknamed Grumpy by grandchildren) managed to produce a family that was exceptionally astute, courageous, insightful, well rounded, talented, and most significantly, the Small children were [and are] kind, considerate, thoughtful, and undeniably family oriented adults, this trait stemming from their parents. Nana and Grumpy produced three all time great uncles (Eric, Craig, Kirk) and two parents Kirk and Kristin who are completely devoted to their eight combined children.

If one lives to be 92 there is bound to be disappointment, sadness, and sorrow within those years. Howard Small left us in 2016 and, despite losing her anchor, the half that made them a whole, Nana carried on, buoyed and comforted by multitudes of friends, family members, and neighbors. She moved several times, living alone, but never laughing alone or without company. Her final move to Conifer Drive in Windham was her best move, combining a small walkable neighborhood with peaceful quiet friendly watchful neighbors. Of course, she had to face life without her stalwart anchor, friend, cribbage opponent, vacation taker, and world class handyman. No two people have ever had each other’s back the way Nana and Grumpy did. Of course, no marriage is bereft of misunderstanding, disagreements, tension, and life’s everyday toil and trouble, yet, no matter the circumstances, they were an impenetrable force of nature when facing unforeseen obstacles.

In 2017 Nana suffered and encountered arguably the biggest loss of her life. No parent even wants to think about it or even hear about it. A child passing before a parent is the downright saddest, most mournful, tragic, and horrific event that can befall a mother. Her son Eric passed away from cancer. He was a young man. He went from diagnosis to hospice in the living room in a matter of weeks. Nana was devastated, crushed, overwhelmed, and stunned by this loss. Eric lived locally and he was the landscaper of 102 projects, handyman, lobster roll builder, snow shoveler, pool cleaner, dinner companion, Jeopardy watching partner, and all round selfless man who magnificently filled in the chasms of Nana’s life. One could state that Nana never recovered from this loss, different than no other parent. Despite the sorrow prevalent in those passings Nana was a bastion of strength, resilience, and positivity during the proceeding years.

She honored the memory of her late husband and son by constantly inserting them into conversations, outings, and occasions. That is how she coped. She kept them in her life. Eric and Grumpy were always present in spirit.

Nana accepted everyone into her life. She saw each person as an individual first. There was no judgment, no retribution, no negativity. In 1960 Howard and Patty’s first child Craig was born with Cerebral Palsy.

She was his champion for the rest of her life. There was no organized support system for people with CP in those days but Craig’s parents and other like minded families bonded together to ensure that their sons and daughters experienced the same opportunities as those without disabilities. Nana devoted herself to the betterment of Craig’s life for 66 years. Her passion demanded attention and her commitment and zealousness ensured that, to this very day, Craig has lived his best life, he has not missed out on any opportunities presented to him, and his mom and dad’s efforts ensured he was simply one of four Small children. As equal as four Blue Pearmain apples falling from the same tree.

Nana was famous, perhaps infamous, for doling out money to her grandchildren for achievements, accomplishments, milestones, and well, anything else she deemed worthy. Report cards, term papers, college acceptances, overseas trips, promotions, dance/music recitals, victorious tennis matches, new apartments, birthdays, Honor Roll attainments, and going away to college all earned cash payoffs from Nana. It was her way of staying involved in the everyday happenings of her beloved grandchildren.

Nana was legendary for her willingness to share almost anything, especially food. If you brought over a pizza she would individually wrap pieces to give to Craig and his roommates. If you made Snickerdoodles from scratch, spent hours in the kitchen, Nana had no problem giving them away to friends and neighbors, sometimes to the consternation of the cookie baker. If you liked her candle, she would give it to you. Grab snacks out of her cupboard, finish them off, no problem. She gave until she had nothing left.

Nana’s passing has left a colossal fissure in the lives of many people.

Memories of her gentleness, forbearance, and generosity will steadily keep Nana in our lives, long after the recliner is empty. Nana stories, tales, and recollections will be passed down through generations. We will see to that.

When asked “how are you?” Nana typically answered “dan and findy” (fine and dandy). We all hope she is still dan and findy and reunited with her beloved Howard and Eric, perhaps looking upon us as we remember her twinkling smile and her standing at her doorstep waving goodbye to us as we fade away.

A memorial service will be held on Saturday, Aug. 15, at 11 a.m., at St. Ann’s Episcopal Church, 40 Windham Center Road, Windham. All are welcome.

To share memories or leave the family an online condolence, please visit http://www.athutchins.com.

Nana has always been grateful to Choices Are For Everyone for supporting Craig for so many years. Donations in her name would be welcomed, but absolutely not necessary.