Grieving the Loss of My Nannie. One Day at a Time.

Dealing with a major loss is never easy. Change is hard. Especially when kids are involved.

Losing our nannie for the summer is no exception.

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I’m not used to taking care of these kids. And this house. I just wasn’t prepared for this.

I miss walking into a spotless home. I miss coming home to home cooked meals. I miss coming home to all of the laundry folded.

The last ten days of the school year were glorious. I had to hire someone to watch these kids for real. They were long days and a fourteen year-old just wasn’t going to cut it.

And it was the greatest thing I ever did. The best money I ever spent. But now she’s gone. And I’m left here to pick up the freaking pieces.

I miss her more than I miss my own mom. In her defense, my mom never watched my kids. And she never cleaned my house. Because she was dead.

But Nancy did. She was my own personal Mary Poppins. One morning she pulled an actual griddle out of her giant bag to make the kids breakfast. They still talk about that day.

Mom, Nancy uses the stove. Mom, Nancy never uses the microwave. Mom, Nancy boils the hotdogs. Mom, that’s not the way Nancy makes my bed. Mom, Nancy butters both sides of the toast. Mom, that’s not the way Nancy does it.

Well I’m sorry kids but I’m not freaking Nancy. And I’m doing the best I can. You don’t think I miss Nancy too?

I’ve been going through all of the normal stages of grief.

Denial.

This can’t be happening. The dishes in the sink just keep piling up. Why aren’t they being cleaned and put away? The kids were waking up every morning asking where Nancy was. I didn’t know how to answer them. We just kept thinking Nancy was going to come walking through that door. She never did.

Anger.

What in the F did I do to deserve this? Who in the F is going to clean this place and feed these kids? Life is not freaking fair!

Bargaining.

Maybe if I’m real good Nancy will come back. I promise to be better. I won’t let the dishes pile up. I’ll sweep every once in while. I’ll throw a load of laundry in every now and again. I promise. I’ll do anything. Just bring Nancy back to me.

Acceptance.

It’s been a week. Nancy is not coming back. I’m going to have to be a mom and a wife all summer long. Life is not fair. Tomorrow is never promised.

When I asked Nancy if she would move in with us and be my new mom she got a nervous look on her face. Something about her own kids and own family.  As she tried prying herself out of my embrace. I really don’t remember the details. I just remember it’s the last time I saw Nancy.

Nancy if you can see this, we love you. And we will miss you all the rest of our days. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hands.

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