Nanny and me, circa 2001
Those of you who’ve been following me for a while know that I have a fondness for older people. I’ve already given thought to who my Golden Girls would be, if I ever find myself in need of BFF roomies. And growing up, I had a slew of incredible female relatives who taught me so much about life and love.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about one of those women: my maternal grandmother, Bettina, whom we affectionately called Nanny. Like many women of her time, Nanny became a grandma in her 50s, which now seems incredibly young to me (I wonder why?). We were very close and she was the only grandparent I had growing up. So, losing her about 15 years ago was tough.
Standing at only 4-feet-10-inches tall, Nanny was a force of nature. Throughout the years, I picked up a lot of wisdom from her—some of which I didn’t fully appreciate until I entered midlife.
Here, some Nanny pearls of wisdom I’d love to share with you:
Wanna get to know someone? Invite them in for a meal.
Nanny was the best cook. She made incredible homemade pasta and stuffed artichokes, and she could fry a chicken cutlet like nobody’s business. When you walked into her house, the smells coming from the kitchen were divine, and even if you swore you were going to stay for just 10 minutes, you’d end up sitting at her table and devouring a full meal. During those times, Nanny dispensed advice, told stories about our family, and made me laugh. In turn, I shared things with her, and those meals were some of our best times together. Which may explain why I now love to feed people in my own home.
Don’t let anyone mess with you.
Nanny used to take me and my sister into Lower Manhattan to shop on Delancey Street. Once, after Nanny had purchased some new “bloomers” and other necessities, a mugger ran up to her and tried to grab her purse. Not only did she hold onto that bag for dear life, but she smacked the thief in the head with it and sent him running. While I wouldn’t necessarily encourage my kids to be a hero like that (I’m more of a “hand over your wallet and no one gets hurt” kinda girl), the message I picked up then was, “Be strong and stand up for yourself.”
Never judge.
OK, in truth Nanny did gossip at times, and she did have a subscription to the National Enquirer. But after reading aloud all the juicy headlines or hearing a rumor about people doing questionable things, she’d always say something along the lines of, “You never know what really goes on behind closed doors.” Translation: Keep your mouth shut, mind your business, and don’t assume you fully understand anyone’s situation.
Older people have stuff to teach you.
Hanging out at Nanny’s house, where she lived with her two sisters, was always a blast because each of them had incredible life experiences and wisdom to impart. The youngest sister, Terri, a career woman who spent her weekends at Studio 54, taught me how to dance and bought me my first LP (Donna Summer’s On the Radio). Nanny and her sister Angie taught me how to sew, cook, draw and play cards. I soaked it all up and always looked forward to my next sleepover at Nanny’s.
Look out for the ones you love.
Nanny loved teatime with her grandkids, and nothing demonstrated her love and protectiveness like the way she served us. After pouring the tea into her famed glass mugs and slicing up a nice Entenmann’s pound cake, she’d dip her clean pinky into our tea to make sure it wasn’t too hot. She burned her finger more than once, but to her it was far better than her grandchildren burning their tongues.
Be generous with family and friends.
Nanny didn’t have much money and almost never spent it on herself, but she always indulged the people she cared about. Every January, she set up a holiday gift club for each of her grandkids, so we could learn the joy of buying presents for our family. In church, she always throw a fat envelope into the donation basket, and whenever we’d visit, she’d press a few dollars into our hands. She taught me that money has energy, and the more you put into the world with goodwill, the more prosperity circles back to you.
A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets.
Oh, wait, that advice was from the 100-year-old Rose in Titanic! But it may as well have been Nanny’s. After my grandpa died in 1972, she never dated anyone else, even though we’d encourage her to. From the way she’d cringe at kissing scenes in movies, you’d think she was a prude. But if you walked into her bedroom, one of the first things you’d notice was stacks of Harlequin and Silhouette romance novels on the dresser and side tables. Which led me to believe that, oh boy, that woman had an inner life. I feel sad that she never found love again during the 35 years she was a widow, but happy knowing she at least indulged in some well-deserved fantasy.
Oh, wait, that advice was from the 100-year-old Rose in Titanic! But it may as well have been Nanny’s.
Never look back with regret.
Nanny and some of her siblings quit school in their early teens to help their parents feed nine kids. They went to work in the factories sewing clothes, making electrical equipment and even assembling bombs during the war. Sometimes Nanny complained about not having been able to finish her education, but she never expressed anger at her parents or anyone else. Only gratitude for what she did have: a little bit of hard-earned savings, and a loving family who always had her back.
Nanny was the GGOAT—Greatest Grandma of All Time—and I’m doing my best now to pass along all her wit and wisdom. Even if I’m not remotely ready to be a grandmother anytime soon.
