Nanny is still alive. After yesterday, I thought for sure that I’d be taking a plane this morning for the funeral. I hope that when I’m old, I don’t have to go through what she’s going through right now. This prolonged death watch is just awful.
Memories continue to come flooding in:
Watching Nanny make Bubby’s sugar cookies (I never did get the recipe out of her). Accompanying her to the bakery to buy seven-layer cake. Her bottle of Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps perfume. Giving her a list of the foods she should buy for one of our visits – never mind that the list was always the same. The crumbsweeper she always had at the ready to tidy up the table after a meal.
The collection of Beatrix Potter figurines that Nanny gave to me when I was a kid. Taking her to see “42nd Street” on Broadway. Her inevitable “I can’t eat anymore!” at the end of the meal, followed by the inevitable “I can’t let that go to waste!” as she sampled the food on everyone else’s plates. The spotless stainless steel kitchen sink – the only thing in her apartment that still looks new after 30 years.
The list goes on…and on and on…