NANNY

I watched "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" tonight (for the umpteenth time on HBO). Such a cute, funny, light story. I am touched by the scene where the three generations (grandmother, mother, daughter) are reflected in the mirror. My grandmother was long gone before my wedding, but my mother had this idea to put a penny in my shoe, and she wanted it to come from the bottle of pennies my grandmother saved for me. The penny on top had my birthyear, and my mother was certain she placed it there on purpose.

Memories of Nanny, in no particular order:

1. Her chocolate cookies with sugar sprinkled on top.
2. Once, when I couldn't finish my soda, she poured it back into the Coke bottle using a funnel (waste not, want not!).
3. The v-shaped pins she used to pin her hair up in a bun.
4. Running up to her while she sat on a park bench.
5. Picking flowers out of the myrtle in her yard and giving them to her.
6. Going to an amusement park.
7. Crouching down in the car as she walked towards it and peering through the window (like she didn't know I was in there LOL).
8. Waking up to a hand under my pillow (the tooth fairy, aka nanny! --- scared me half to death).

The strangest thing is how I remind everyone of her. You see, all my life I've been told I have her eyes. The same shape and, more importantly to them, exact color. I never knew how to take that. Did I freak those people out when they saw me? Not too long ago, my uncle held my face in his hands and said, "The eyes. The eyes." Was he sad? Was he happy? I didn't know what to do, other than to smile.

She made an afghan for me when I was born. My mother put it away for safe keeping. I knew it existed, but only saw it through the plastic bag it was kept in. Another, larger afghan was kept on the back of our couch. Actually, it's still there -- pretty tattered and faded, but still affective in keeping one warm and cozy on a cold, winter night.

When my mother finally gave me my afghan, I was surprised to see how brilliant the colors are. It looks brand, spanking new. I want to preserve it rather than to see it end up faded and tattered like the other one, but I do not want it sitting in a chest the remainder of my life. So, I have it hanging on the wall, as a tribute to the woman I barely knew, but see every time I look in the mirror.



Nanny and me (age 3)

my afghan