This summer marks her 70th birthday. My wonderful aunt Cindy threw a hell-of-a-bash at Nanny's house. Everybody gathered. Well, almost everybody.
My daughter and her precious cousins joined the affair. It was like watching my childhood all over again.
Nanny's children, my mother, her brother, and Aunt Cindy joined in the summer celebration to kick off Nanny's next 10-30 years (or perhaps indefinite) of her life. My grandmother has been nothing short of a miracle to me. We slept in her home as youth, spent countless hours in her home during the summers as children, made unforgettable bonds as family, and learned that coming home is nothing more than being where you belong.
Many children shame or ignore their families. Not here. Here, we find them invaluable.
We've watched watermelon eat-offs and Lake Hogan speedboats drift off each summer. We've seen deaths and watched animated films under the stars.
Because we must celebrate our Nanny.
She's built treehouses.
She's picked buckets of cherries with us.
She's grown figs and pomegranates.
She's laughed and cried with us.
She's Nanny and she's wonderful