Happy Family

I was looking through old photographs last night. I came across this one in an envelope and I don't recall ever having seen it. I think this was either taken on Easter Sunday or any Sunday. I thought it might be Easter because of the hats, but then I also thought, hats would be for church on any Sunday. The caption on the back of the picture is "Happy Family."

From left to right is Aunt Sylvia, Dee Dee, Nanny, and my mother, Joanne. Here's the thing about Nanny and Dee Dee. We were never permitted to call my grandparents anything other than those names. My grandmother "Nanny" never wanted to be reminded that she was old enough to be a grandma. You remember those family gatherings at grandma's house? Me either, my grandparents always came to our house for holidays and special occassions. A meal at Nanny's consisted of cut up weiners with mustard on a plate, tea and toast for those rare sleep-overs.

What I remember the most about my Nanny is that she lived a block away from Packard Music Hall and the park. The Music Hall hosted the Kenley Players during the summer. The closest I ever came to seeing a Broadway Show. Sandy Duncan in "Peter Pan", Sonny Bono in "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum", Stockard Channing and Barry Williams in "Grease", "Guys and Dolls" but I can't remember who was in that one, it might have been Henry Winkler, because I know I saw him too. Those plays were so cool. I loved every single minute of each and every one. Sundays after church during the summer, we always went to "Town and Country" for breakfast. Why? Because that was the big swanky hotel that the stars would stay at during the summer stock season. I've eaten breakfast across from George Hamilton, also saw him walking barefoot in the park one day. Nanny was star-struck, that's for sure.

Nanny taught me that books are our friends, and we went to the library a lot. She also took me to my first movie in a theater, "The Sound of Music", I'll never forget it, and it's still one of my favorites. We went to lots of movies together. I have lots of good memories of my Nanny. She loved lilacs, never smoked in front of her friends and she hid her ashtrays in the oven, in case someone popped over for a visit. We always laughed the hardest over that. She always had a tin of Lorna Doones.

Nanny died while she was babysitting my little brother Johnny. I went to my mom's to do laundry one morning. I pull in the driveway, wondering why Nanny was there. I take the laundry up the steps, and open the back door. And there she was, slumped in the chair, fresh-lit cigarrette in the ashtray and hot coffee sitting on the table. Johnny was standing kind of in the corner with his back to her, but talking to her, almost like he was answering her. I put the laundry basket down, trying to grasp at some understanding of what exactly was happening. With this sick feeling, I calmly take Johnny down the hall to his bedroom and ask him where Mommy is. Johnny is two, in diapers and a t-shirt. He tells me that mommy is at the hospital because Frankie cut off his foot. I pull some clothes out of his dresser and place them on his bed, asking him can he get dressed like a big boy while I take care of a couple things? And are you sure Frankie cut off his foot? He says yes it's cut off. Ok Johnny, will you stay back here in your room, while I make a phone call? He tells me he will get dressed and play for a while.

I go back out into the kitchen and pick up the phone and call the paramedics. They want to know what happened. I'm still not sure, but I think she had a heart attack. She's dead, for sure, please come and get her. This is my first time doing something like this, I probably should have called the paramedics first, but I didn't want to freak out the baby. All I kept thinking was thank God I came early, Johnny would have been here alone for who knows how long. How am I going to tell my mother this? I know I was shaking, big time. I called the emergency room and find my mother. Frankie didn't cut his foot off, it was his finger and he was in surgery. That's good mom, but I have to tell you something. I don't even remember what I said. The paramedics arrive, I go back to be with Johnny while they try to revive her. When they couldn't, they asked me for her driver's license after they got her on the gurney. Again, the rest of it is a blur. I know I called Aunt Sylvia, and called my godmother.

I think I was in shock, trance like. I just started cleaning my mom's stove, then the oven. I remember my godmother came, and I felt comfort. I just remember cleaning and this humming in my ears. As I'm writing this, I wonder how much of it Johnny remembers. I don't think we have ever talked about it. That had to be in 1978, because he was still in diapers. Nine years later he would lose both of his parents. When my sister called me to come home from South Dakota because our mother was dying, my only concern was for the baby. There was no question, I had to come home for him. Even though Susan ended up raising him, I still have this feeling of responsibity towards him, and a special love that can only come from a big sister.

I had nightmares about that day for a very long time. I would wake up in the night, smell lilacs, and have this overwhelming feeling of dread. It got so bad that I would not go to sleep. Long enough that I finally had to go to the doctor. I took sleeping pills for a week or so. I finally got through it. Years later, after I bought my house, Anthony's dad bought me a lilac bush. He remembered the hell I went through with those nightmares. It was a perfect gift. Every spring I wait for my lilacs, because they remind me of Nanny.