Remembering Nanny ...

On Friday, some of my extended family will gather in Augusta, Maine, to say their final goodbyes to Nanny and to lay her to rest. It is almost fitting that I will be on the ocean--though a thousand miles away--because seldom do I ever look at the sea or see a lighthouse and not think of Nanny.

Nanny--my father's mother--died last month in North Carolina, where she spent the last 20+ years of her life. Nanny--or "Millie" to her friends--had a long and full life, but she didn't have the easiest childhood, to put it mildly. Her mother died when she was young, and her relationship with her father was strained. She helped take care of her younger siblings until she left home and worked her way through nurse's training.

Before too long, she met the love her her life, her Fran--and my Grampy--Francis Pierce. If I remember correctly, they had been at some sort of dance or concert. Grampy played the saxophone (I think it was the sax)--and though they hadn't arrived together, he ended up giving her a ride home that night. They eventually married and had five children ... 13 grandchildren ... and 17 great-grandchildren.

Together, they built a life on the coast of Maine. With Grampy's vision and excellent sense of business, Pierce Marine Service grew and flourished. And Nanny was by his side every step of the way. In the meantime, she helped him build another business, Pierce's Cozy Cove Cottages, adjacent to their waterfront home.

"Not bad for a couple of school kids," she used to say.

And oh, how he loved her. He missed her terribly while he served his country overseas during World War II. And we have the proof ... in the form of beautiful, handwritten, love letters--letters he wrote to her every day he could while he was away and while she was keeping the home fires burning. Those letters are beautiful and priceless, and I am so thankful she shared them with me ... and with our whole family.

From Maine to Florida--and beyond--they were respected in the boating business. Their legacy in the field carries on in many ways--just one, for example, is the Maine Marine Trades Association, which they helped form. In fact, they both are mentioned on the association's Web site: "Many of us remember with great fondness the dedication and hard work of folks like Fran and Millie Pierce ... " Additionally, a photo of Nanny and Grampy--just the two of them on the water, doing what they loved to do--was featured in an industry calendar. It is a beautiful photo, and I am glad to have a copy of it (even if it isn't the best quality).

I don't have many memories of Grampy--he died when I was 5--but I am thankful for the memories of him that Nanny shared with me. She mentioned him often, and she missed him terribly. At times, she was angry at him for leaving her here. She was incredibly lonely after Grampy died, but she did not let that stop her from being involved in volunteer activities, church groups, neighborhood associations, and this committee and that one ...

Nanny could be accused of being a nosy neighbor--a trait that she may or may not have passed on to her descendants. But I'm not naming any names due to the fifth amendment. ;o) She loved to talk on the phone, and she had the phone bills to prove it. I remember being called to the phone weekly to talk to her. You see, we never lived in the same city as Nanny, but she made every effort to keep up a relationship with us. She traveled to see us somewhat regularly, and many of our holiday memories--and one big Florida vacation--included trips to see Nanny. As long as she could help it, she never missed a graduation or wedding, and no birthday went by without being remembered.

I suppose this came naturally to her, as from some of the stories her children have shared, she could be accused of borderline stalking them during their younger days. LOL! I remember my dad talking about Nanny calling out for him when he was a teen hanging out with his friends on the beach one night. Another story is from my Uncle David's honeymoon--in her defense, Uncle Dave was her youngest, and she perhaps had a little trouble letting him go.

As a girl, I distinctly remember Nanny "putting her face on"--that's getting her makeup on, in case you didn't know. She taught me the importance of cutting a sandwich in half and keeping a clean home. Her home was spotless--she even wiped up the water droplets out of the sink after running the faucet. Nanny liked nice things, and she liked to spend money. Two of her favorite adjectives were "elegant" and "lovely," and she used them often. She used to tell me not to say I'm sorry unless I truly mean it--I try to remember that to this day.

She loved the Glenn Miller Orchestra, and she subjected the music to us as tweens and teens. Of course, our young minds did not appreciate what we were hearing at the time. I remember making fun of "Pennsylvania 6-5000." (We just didn't know!) Likewise, she forced us to watch "The Sound of Music," her favorite motion picture--and my Grampy's. Now, we can finally share their fondness for the film. Another movie that reminds me of Nanny--and I think this is hilarious--is Dolly Parton's "9 to 5." She took our whole family to see it at the theater. I was in early elementary school at the time. It would be years before I would get the humor, but I love it, and it is one of my favorite movies ever.

In her later years, she adapted to the changing times. She even e-mailed us--and this was in the '90s when not even all of my friends were online. But Nanny was!

She was an insulin-dependent diabetic--something, at times, she used to her advantage. For example, a long wait for our large group at a busy restaurant would end abruptly after Nanny declared to management that she was feeling weak and needed to eat. Before you judge, you should know--as an old family joke goes--"There's the right way, the wrong way, and Millie's way. "

Despite her diabetes, Nanny loved chocolate, and she made this chocolate sauce that was AMAZING. However, she never put enough on my ice cream! She also made delicious Toll House Cookies. For Nanny, any chocolate-chip cookie was a "Toll House Cookie."

Though she could be critical of us, Nanny was incredibly proud of her family, and she loved us all immensely. Her home was filled with photos of her loved ones, and her refrigerator displayed the latest artwork of her youngest grandkids. She often donned sweatshirts that featured the names of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Later, when she was in an assisted-living facility, she loved introducing us to her neighbors--and she took delight in telling everyone Tanna was a doctor. He was a good sport about it, and we used to get a laugh out of that.

We will be thinking of Nanny on Friday. I am thankful that Tanna, Kate and I had the opportunity to see her just days before she died. It was a gift to have that time to say goodbye--even if just a few minutes. We love you, Nanny, and we will miss you.