Tell me the story again. Tell me how… Tell me about…
Those questions were asked over and over again to my Nanny. Oh, how I long to ask just one more question!
Nanny told me how to do many things. I wish I had taken notes. When she made a wonderful meal, as she always did, she would say, “Now, Suzie, let me tell you how I did it…” and the words would flow. I want that time back. I want to be sitting and listening at her kitchen table one more time as she tells me how to live, how to cook, how to do something homemade.
We all need the stories from our grandparents. The how-to’s and don’t do’s. The encouragement, the love, the faith, the mercy. Nanny was a balm for a hurting heart. She was a salve for every sore in my body. Anytime my world wasn’t tilted just right, I’d ask to go to Nanny’s house. Just spending time with her as she worked sewing at her machine made my world better. Oh, the times she tried to tell me how to do things, and I never took note of it!
My memories will forever replay in my mind of a slower life, spent at the foot of this Godly women who knew just how to tell me she cared.