To my Nanny:
I still remember walking hand in hand outside to the swingset with the yellow seats. The grass tickled our ankles as we walked and the sun painted more freckles across my nose.
I still remember turning around, grabbing the yellow rope, and hopping onto the swing. You gave me a few big pushes to get started. My feet swung back and forth, back and forth—I was learning how to pump.
I still remember how the breeze pushed my curls back as I soared forward, my little feet kicking the clouds above me, and how when I flew backward and my hair was in my eyes, I was never scared because I knew I you were right behind me, ready to catch the small of my back and push me even higher.
I still remember the moment when you knew I had the hang of it—you always knew—so you stepped back and watched me kick back and forth, back and forth, and smiled. You walked to the swing next to me and sat down, lightly pushing your feet against the dirt patch below to swing alongside me.
I still remember how the dandelions seemed to be a brighter yellow under the sunlight that day as they swung with us. The sun reflected off your gold earrings—the ones I always thought were so beautiful. The day was just full of light.
And I still remember the way the breeze carried your voice up to the birds in the branches above as you began to sing Doris Day:
When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother what will I be. Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here’s what she said to me…
“Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be, the future’s not ours to see, que sera, sera….” That was always my favorite part to join in on. It always seemed like the robins with red bellies would harmonize with us. I always thought you had the most beautiful voice.
Nanny, this is and will always be one of my favorite memories. We have so many—the tea parties we had with Poppie, Sunday dinners at your house eating meatballs and gravy while Skipper ate all of the napkins off the table, flying to Florida and finally having the best Nanny hug after what seemed like forever—but this one will always be my favorite.
You taught me that day that you will always be there to catch me if I fall back; that no matter what, you believe in me; and that sometimes all we can do in life is sit on the swings, sing Doris Day, and enjoy the sun because que sera, sera.
Whatever will be, will be—but you will always be my Nanny. You were with me every step of the way growing up, and I am who I am because of you.
I love you, Nanny! Happy Mother’s Day.
TESS CARCALDI 