Anna Zaninovich

Nanny, Gigi, Grandma, Mom, it didn’t matter what you called her—if you did not know Anna Zaninovich, you at least knew of her. Mother to three, grandmother to four, great grandmother to eight, Anna epitomized the finest qualities of her generation, living a life grander than many with a humility and spirit of service deeper than most.

Born the second daughter to Croatian immigrants, Matt and Mary Caric, on March 15, 1923, Anna was not born with a silver spoon. She was a product of the Great Depression, living the best and worst of America’s greatest generation.

Anna spent her youth in Dinuba, Venice Beach, and Lemon Hill. She graduated from Dinuba high school and later Visalia College. Fresh out of college, Anna worked at a title company in Orange Cove. Her earliest experiences were defined by watching her father succeed, fail, and succeed again in business as a farmer, hotelier, and investor.

From an early age, Anna had a heart for sentiment. As a child, she chronicled each and every detail of her life as though fully aware of just how special her 99 years on earth would be. Anna found meaning in everything. She was intensely sentimental and a natural collector. No detail was too small—as a young girl, she would sit on a large rock in her parents’ yard and dream of her future. That very same rock traveled with Anna for her entire life, having a special place at each home she occupied in every stage of her life. Anna had a way of making life’s simpler moments feel significant, and this spirit defined her every aspect.

The most significant moment of her childhood was meeting the love of her life, Nick Zaninovich when they were both children in Dinuba. Nick and Anna grew up part of a closely-knit Croatian-American community and had a relationship that seemingly only exists in fiction. From the moment they began dating, they ceased to exist as individuals. You would not invite Nick or Anna to dinner—it was “Nick and Anna”, two halves forged to a single whole who wrote a love story like a fairytale breathed to life.

Nick and Anna carved what they had out of nothing—it was the American dream, plain and simple. Their life together could have been a movie, but it was better than Hollywood—better, because it was real. Together, they raised three daughters, designed and built their dream home, and traveled the world together.

And did she travel it. From Rio de Janeiro to Casablanca, Anna saw it all, canvasing the world with the love of her life in an era before modern tourism. In total, they traversed six continents, dozens of countries, and made lifelong friendships around the globe. Anna never lost her hunger for adventure, taking her last great overseas vacation just before her ninetieth birthday.

At no moment during sixty years of marriage was their home quiet. The home in Delano she built with “Nickie” was one strong on family, faith, love and storage. Their house on Val Verde Lane was a hub of activity, and good conversation or the best meal of your life was never more than a few steps away. Val Verde was positively alive, buzzing with the constant hum of friends and extended family paying homage to its larger-than-life occupants. Anna was the consummate hostess and relished making her home—particularly her kitchen—a place that people simply wanted to be.

It was in the kitchen where Anna was most at home. Yes, it’s true that everyone thinks their grandmother is the pinnacle of culinary excellence, but Anna was better—she was the real deal.

Going hungry at Anna’s was utterly impossible. Imagine:

Breakfast: eggs; sausage; bacon; toast; silver dollar pancakes; a fresh grapefruit from the yard; strawberries; yogurt; a bunch of “Nickie’s” grapes; a cup of orange juice or a cup of coffee—your choice.

Lunch: lamb chops; roasted potatoes; watermelon; green beans; bread; a bowl of the incomparable Gigi’s soup; soup meat salad. red wine; cake and cookies for dessert.

Dinner: Nick’s Slav hotdogs, sauerkraut, asparagus, a green salad from her garden, zucchini delight, red wine; ice cream pie for dessert.

Snacks (available all day, everyday): ice cream; lemon drops; black licorice; cookies, cookies, more cookies; pistachios with an accessory bowl for shells; a positively stacked Lazy Susan possessed by some bewildering spirit that kept it full at all times.

It never mattered what Anna made—it was of quality, quantity, and most likely red. She was the best gardener in the neighborhood and her table was always filled with Tikvica (squash), Rikula (arugula), citrus, and—of course—the family fruit: table grapes. No matter her age, Anna served her guests and refused to be served in return. She governed the house with an iron spoon—and it was her law that you eat. At no point in her life did she ever lose her drive to cook enough to feed the entire world.

There was never any better excuse to cook than the holidays and Christmas at grandma’s was always a production in the best way possible. Each year, Anna’s house transformed into a winter wonderland, complete with decorated Christmas trees, lights, and twenty-one massive stockings—one handsewn for each member of the family—draped lovingly from the living room stairs. The fire was lit even on the balmiest of Delano Decembers—burn days be damned—and the mantle was alive with dozens of colorful Santas collected over a lifetime of travel.

Christmas at grandma’s was loud in volume, and louder in love There was always music and always people—so many people—both family and friend. The meal and the dessert would last you well to Easter, but the best memories of Christmas were always the traditions. A packed photo of the family, knives-out, grinning over a turkey. The post-lunch, pre-food coma neighborhood walk for health. Lounging in the evening with a plate of seconds. Laughing, visiting, making memories, and enjoying a fleeting calm in busy lives—time enough to remind all of what really matters. Anna simply spoiled every visitor to her home.

The only thing Anna spoiled more than her guests were her grandchildren. Yes—every, grandma spoils their grandkids—but how many pre-heat your pool towel in the dryer so it’s just right when you climb out of the pool? Grandma did, and that’s not even half of it. She would lovingly tuck you into bed so tight—“like a papoose”—that not even Houdini could escape. Her love for her grandchildren was unconditional.

She never missed a piano recital, school play, soccer tournament, or Taekwondo tournament. She drove well into her nineties and would drive across Southern California to play an active role in her grandchildren’s lives, always arriving with a smile on her face and a Marie Calendar’s pie in hand.

Her great grandchildren were no different, and with eight—all with active lives—Anna kept busy. She attended Holy Communions, graduations, and countless sporting events and school recitals. She prayed for her great-grand children and the rest of her family by name each night—an accomplishment than can only be understood if you, too, come from a large Croatian family. No matter the circumstance, Anna was a woman with the best of intentions and wanted to be a mother to all.

Her daughters Maryann, Nicolette, and Donna, will remember mom as an ever-present force in their lives. She was active and involved in every aspect of their lives, and there was never any doubt of her love and devotion for her girls. Anna instilled an independence and fortitude in her daughters and whenever they were complimented as children, Anna would smile and wryly retort, “look at the blueprints”.

Her grandchildren, Matt, Lauren, Chance, and Keenan will remember grandma/Nanny as the dictionary definition of everything a grandma should be. She was a pure soul lacking a single bad bone in her body. We’ll never be certain if she ever fed a homeless person, though she certainly did many a cat. It should also go without saying—our grandma is cooler than your grandma.

Her great grandchildren, Jack, Johnny, Nick, Christian, Matthew, Alexandra, Marcella, and Anna will remember Gigi as a constant cheerleader and the best hugger on God’s green Earth. They never once left her home without an “I love you” or a container full of Gigi’s soup, always walking them to the car and waving from the porch as their parents’ double honked the horn and disappeared around the corner.

Her community, her friends, and the world will remember Anna for the fierce, unyielding love she held for her family—especially her late-husband, Nick—whom she loved, cherished, and defended in sickness and in health for over six decades of blissful marriage.

Anna is preceded in death by her parents Matt and Mary Caric, her sister, Sally Lucich, her husband, Nick, her daughter, Nicolette Zaninovich, and grandson, Chance Hochschild. These dark moments never dampened her blinding optimism and enthusiasm for life. She would often remark, “I’m prepared to die, I’m just not ready yet,” and dreamed to “touch one hundred”. Passing a mere week after her entering her one hundredth year, Anna rests having truly “done it all”, emphatically checking off the final item on her last and most important list.

Anna Zaninovich was many things in her life, though the only thing she will never be is forgotten. She was a tireless soul with a heart of gold and the best of intentions. An unabashedly iconic spirit. There are lots of people that live life as a shooting star, burning bright for a short period, though Anna shone as bright as the sun for ninety-nine years. She provided warmth and happiness to all in her light.

Today, the house feels empty. The lights dim. The party feels a little quieter. But, if you look closely, you’ll still find a large rock just off her porch where a tiny girl sat and dreamed a grand future, now fully fulfilled. These dreams lifted an entire family and today her legacy mourns the absence of someone who could only have been described as a living legend. Anna always gave more than she had, but her best gift was giving a truly special family experience whose clarity of uniqueness grows sharper with each passing day.

Mom—Grandma—Gigi—the lessons you taught us will always be with us. We love you endlessly.

Anna’s family is forever grateful for the loving care she received from her caregivers, Ana, Ellie, Evelyn, Betty, Elizabeth and Annette.

A viewing will be held 4-8pm Tuesday April 5, 2022 chapel at Hillcrest Memorial park. Rosary starting at 6:00pm.

Services will be held Wednesday April 6, 2022, 9:00am at Our Lady of Perpetual Help at Church, 124 Columbus St, Bakersfield CA. Interment at Hillcrest Memorial park.

A visitation for Anna will be held Tuesday, April 5, 2022 from 4:00 PM to 8:00 PM at Hillcrest Memorial Park and Mortuary, 9101 Kern Canyon Road, Bakersfield, California 93306. A funeral service will occur Wednesday, April 6, 2022 at 9:00 AM at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church, 124 Colombus Street, Bakersfield, California 93305. A graveside service will occur Wednesday, April 6, 2022, 9101 Kern Canyon Road, Bakersfield, California 93306.

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.hillcrestmemorial.com for the Zaninovich family.