My Nannie

Today my Nannie turns 90 years old. Her mother lived to be 101 years old. There was a period of time that I spent a good bit of time with my grandmother as a child. I remember waking up to the smell of a fresh, hot breakfast being cooked but I would not get out of bed. Instead, I would call for my Nannie to come get me. And she would come. Then, together, we would make our way into the kitchen to find my Papa standing by the stove making a full fledged breakfast and he would say, "Good morning Bethie! Today we have (so and so and so) and it will cost you $$$. I will send your dad the bill." When breakfast was all done, Nannie and I would sometimes set out on a walk to the neighborhood pond. During our walk, we would collect the best rocks we could find. Once we made it to the pond, we would throw the rocks, one by one, into the water. Quickly, we would count the ripples before they would disappear. We would then make our way home to watch one of my Nannie's favorite tv shows - The Price Is Right. She still loves this show. I would curl up on the couch with my favorite plaid blanket, a blanket that was later used daily to warm my Papa when he was ill, a blanket that I now have and share with my own family. It is special and could tell a story of its own. Following a dose of daily tv, the kitchen would light up again and preparation for the second meal would be underway. My Nannie and Papa only ate two meals a day - two big, satisfying meals. And then we would go to the local park. The park that had the biggest slide ever and one of those merry-go-round thingies that still make me sick. Or I would go into their backyard and play. There wasn't much to play with so my Nannie would always give me spoons to dig with and, being that it was different, I always found it fun to dig with spoons. Sometimes we would load up into their big car, roll down the windows, my long hair flying everywhere and listen to Alabama's 'Play Me Some Mountain Music' as we made our way into town. One of two things would happen next, either my dad would come to pick me up and I would take this as a signal to hide and "scare" him upon his arrival, OR I would be given a bath and stay the night. If the bath was to occur, Nannie had her own way of doing this project. She would first take my hair and use bobby pins to pin it away from my shoulders so as to not get it all wet. Then, she would carefully run the water making sure not to get it too hot. And then she would turn the radio on. We didn't have a radio in our bathroom at home so this was always a special treat. After getting all squeaky clean, I would climb into bed and she would read to me. I always chose the same story about a young boy who would get lost and the policeman would help him. Nannie always read a certain way, with a certain voice. Sometimes, now, I hear my dad read and he sounds just like her only with a deeper voice. Today, my Nannie still loves to read. She loves to receive letters and phone calls. She loves to play bingo with her assisted living pals. She aches. She putters on. She loves my children. I, of course, tease her and tell her all the time that I know I am her favorite - this is not true yet I do know that we will always have that special bond that formed between us many years ago! Happy Birthday Nannie! And many, many more.