Anyone who has known me for more than five minutes knows how much I loved her. I was mocked for it a little in high school - when I told people after class "I can't hang around. Nanny is waiting for me."
It's not the most socially acceptable thing a 14 year old can say.
But I said it none the less because that's what she was doing and that's what she did every day of her live. She waited on others. Selflessly and tirelessly. It makes what I called her appropriate. She could have been granny or grandma or any number of other loving names but for whatever reason - and mom could tell you when - I christened her "Nanny". The name stuck. I'm glad I didn't call her governess or concierge because while fitting, those are a mouthful...especially to a 3 year old.
As some of you might already know. I don't live here. I'm "the one that got away". So if you will indulge me for a few minutes, I'm going to talk to her for a bit.
Nanny, since I never got the chance to tell you this before I will tell you this now. Well...that's not entirely true, I've had over 31 years of chances and opportunities but I never took advantage of them. These are all the things I have wanted to say to you but for whatever reason (be it childish nativity or Cunningham arrogance) I couldn't.
I want to thank you for being not only a grandmother, but another mother. While mom was working to put food on our plate you were busy running around town - taking us to and picking us up from school. You were never too busy for your family even if we were too busy for you. You were always there to be our Nanny.
I wanted to thank you for feeding us waaay after you should have stopped. You should have been on the beach, sunning yourself and living the good life of a grandmother who's children moved out of the house. Instead, your dedication kept you here. Your love kept you near. Your cooking kept us full.
Just between you and me - I longed for your cornbread long after I moved away.
I wanted to thank you for always giving us a welcome home...specifically when I returned from Georgia several years ago. Even though I had been away for several years, it was like I never left when I walked in. When mom, Kevin, and I moved...your house became my "home". I always felt comfortable there (even if it wasn't Nanny clean). When I got the job in Washington, I almost didn't want to leave, but I knew I had to because of the values that you helped to instill into us.
I remember mentioning to mom...this must have been 15 years ago...that you weren't what a grandmother was "supposed to be". You didn't look like the other grandmothers I saw. You always looked your best when you left home. You put on makeup before going to the movies. You got dressed up to go to the mall. You were retired! You were supposed to be running errands in a track suit, not in pearls. And that's if you wanted to run errands. You had grandchildren! That's what grandchildren are for. Even though not all of your grandchildren honored the idea of looking your best...you loved us all the same.
You were a mother far longer than you deserved. You did your maternal duty before I was born, yet you still loved to care for all of us. During summers, after school, on weekends, and on those one-nights-a-week where we stayed at your place. Unsolved Mysteries will always hold a special place in my heart. I'll always treasure watching your shows with you and always miss you tucking me in. You were a natural at it.
Even though we're a small family and don't have many traditions, the one tradition we did follow was having holidays at your house. Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas...those special days you allowed Kevin and I to go into the living room. Even after I grew up and wasn't waiting to tear open my presents, being in that room with you made the problems of the past year fade away. Our small family was together and nothing could change that. Those presents you still had to open even after we were all done? That was our way of saying thank you.
We should have said thank you more.
So thank you for being someone we could talk to, confide in, and cry on.
Thank you for being our moral compass and our guide through dark days.
Thank you for watching our pets when we were away.
Thank you for helping me count my calories by eating the corners from my Sir Pizza pizza.
Thank you for measuring our height by the door so we can remember where we came from.
Thank you for sewing all the patches on my Boy Scout uniform.
Thank you for stuffing our stockings full of socks at Christmas. While Kevin and I might not have wanted those, socks are always a good investment.
Thank you for answering the phone and telling me how things back here were.
Thank you for having an infectious joi d'vive.
Aussi, merci pour me d'enseigment un peu francais.
Thank you for sending me clippings of the newspaper in the mail...even though I already read it online. Speaking of...
Thank you for never getting online. I don't think you would've liked it. Too much commotion.
Thank you for welcoming Caitlin into our little family and letting it grow a little.
Thank you for being our rock.
Thank you for being my Nanny.
You loved Williamsburg...get to know Lord Botetourt, John Marshall, Washington, and Jefferson and all the other people who lived there. Take a deep breath and go with Pops and Granny. Take Max, Packer, Bobby, and Nick on a walk down Duke of Gloucester Street. I know you'll feed Maggie before you head out.
It's ok to go to the great House of Burgesses in the sky. You did a good job. Scooby will watch after Meme. Kate will take take of Mark. Caitlin will keep me in line and Kevin...well...Kevin is probably the only one of us who can take care of himself.
This World is not Conclusion, so go and play bridge with Aunte Doris, Aunt Marylin, and Albert Schweitzer. Get to know your little Hank. Make sure Pa-Paw doesn't put any green beans in the pressure cooker and tell him I can't wait to have his potato soup again... no matter how many times I called to get the recipe from you, I can't seem to get it right.
