Dear Nanny.

Where do I begin? Your birthday is tomorrow, and even though we have celebrated many birthdays without you, it still feels surreal. It doesn’t feel right to celebrate your birthday without you; it doesn’t feel right to go on with our day when you’re not here with us. But we do. Because we have to, and because we all know, deep down, that that’s what you would want -- for us to keep pushing forward with our lives.

Everyone misses you. Every single day, we miss you. We think about you and we spend time reminiscing about the time we spent with you. Every year I take a day (or two) to binge watch all your favorite Abbott and Costello movies. I remember how we used to sit on your couch, me cuddled into your lap, laughing and repeating every line. Those are the memories I keep with me, the ones of us laughing and smiling and enjoying our time together.

I know you’re watching over me, and even though you’re not here I still think about making you proud. When I make a mistake I worry that I’ve let you down, even though I’m sure you wouldn’t hold it against me. When I’m feeling defeated and feeling like I can’t keep going, I think of you. I remember the way you used to hold my hand and tell me: “Boober, it doesn’t matter what anyone else tells you. You can do whatever you want as long as you don’t give up and you don’t let other people get to you.” Simple words. Words that I’ve heard a hundred times over the last several years, but in those moments -- when I’m feeling down and out -- I can almost feel you with me. I can hear you giving me advice, making me laugh and smile with your silly rhymes (though admittedly they bring me a lot of comfort and peace when I think of them). I try to remember your smell, the way your perfume would envelop me when I buried my head in your chest for comfort.

As much as I hate to admit it, there are things I’m struggling to remember. Your scent still lingers in my mind, but it’s fading. I think what I struggle with the most is remembering the sound of your voice. I can remember the things you’ve said, remember the times and places you’ve said things, but the actual sound of your voice is almost gone. And that breaks my heart. I feel like I’m betraying you. I know you’d tell me it’s alright, but it hurts, and I wish there was something I could do to change it.

Having you in my life has always been one of my greatest gifts. I had time with you on Earth to love you and have more adventures with you than I can remember. I’ve had you in my life as my inspiration and my motivation for years, even when you left us, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I hope you had a stellar birthday, Nanny. Know that we were all thinking of you and missing you. I love you. ❤️

Love you to the stars and back,

Boober