Thinking of Nanny

I am a bit of a mess today, dear readers. I have a sense of foreboding that my beloved Nanny might finally pass. She has been a valiant, dignified, beautiful example of dealing with the indignities of old age with grace. She is so tired, so ready, and I respect her wishes completely. And although I’ve been preparing for her to leave us for several years now, I think you’re never really ready to say goodbye. I don’t know if I’m right about this, but I have a strange feeling of turmoil inside, and I’ve been struggling with bouts of tears all day. I left yoga early and hauled ass to the nursery. Nanny always loved her yard, her flowers, the things she grew- most notably blackberries and pecans. I think my mother got her love of working the land from Nanny, and almost despite myself (if you recall, I used to avoid being dirty and/or wet at all costs [unless opting into a shower]), I from them. In attempting to process my thoughts that Nanny might actually leave us, I felt an urge to plant something pretty that would remind me of her. New life as a counterpoint to death I imagine. And so I go, heading off to apply copious amounts of bug spray, don my gardening gloves, gather my tools, and hope that some of my sadness can give way to something that would make Nanny smile and that will remind me of her. I only bought perennials you know.