The Nanny Monologues

*Names have been changed to protect the privacy of all involved



Katherine:

The last day I had with Robert was a paradox of emotions.  It had elements of the boring routine combined with extreme loss and bitter regret all at once.  You know the feeling on the last day of school, when your body is used to all the familiar sensations, but it hasn't quite caught up with your brain, and your brain is continuously reminding your body "OK, this is it.  This won't be the same ever again.  Get ready.  Prepare for this.  Are you prepared?" It was like that.  I fed him lunch, we went to the park, I reminded him that he couldn't just fling sand in the air, we did all the fun things that three year olds enjoy but will never remember.

For the last month or two, I tried to tell him what was going to happen.  I'd say "Ok Robert, I love you and will always love you. But you're going to go on a new adventure, and I am too. You're moving to a new state! Yay! You'll be going to a different place, but I will always think of you and be so grateful we got a chance to meet and play together" And he'd say something touching and meaningful in response, something like "You be a kitty now Kathy, ok?" which I would translate as "I know Kathy.  Shut up about it so we can live in the moment and enjoy a game of pretend".

Then last week I saw she left her day calendar out on the kitchen counter.  I saw it and expected to see dates scrawled in there about calling movers or flight schedules.  Nothing.  There was nothing.

I wish she had just told me what I did.

So now it's 6:00 and it's time for me to go.  She already has his favorite TV show turned on so she doesn't have to be bothered by him when I leave.  I give Robert a hug and the husband, sentimental fool that he is, is about to cry for me.  I hear her yell sharply from the other room "DON'T MAKE A SCENE!" It's directed at him, but my heart takes the hit anyway.  I smile and wave goodbye like I'll see him tomorrow.

The hardest thing is when you get attached and become the thing that the three year old enjoyed but will never remember.  But hey, he knows the word please now because of me.  And how to dance. So maybe we left little foot prints on each other's hearts that no amount of jealousy or time can take away.  That's gotta mean something, right?