When I was little, before my nan's house burnt down, I used to go and visit her nearly every day. Whenever I did, she would make me pretend Milo coffees while she had her real coffees, or vanilla milkshakes. They weren't really milkshakes, there was no ice cream in them, she just frothed the milk up a little. But they were the best thing ever.
I don't know whether it's the milk I miss, or just that whole experience. Nanny not having to work and stress, just sitting in her little kitchen by the wood fire stove, her with her cuppa and me with my milk, and talking and telling stories. I want that Nanny back, not the sad, tired old lady who gambles away all her money and spends 14 hours of her day serving assholes in a cold little shop.
To this day, I will still go and visit her whenever I'm bored or lonely or trying to hide from the world. I like to pride myself on that fact, that even through all the shit that's happened over the last 10 years I can still run and hide with my Nanny and sit by the fire and have something to drink at the table and talk about life. Even though I'm not that small girl with vanilla milk in Mahonga St, having seen and experienced all the horrors that have come my way and fucked my brain up beyond a joke, all the mistakes I've made and people I've pushed away, I will always be my Nanny's little girl, her number one Bebe. Nothing anyone can say, especially my mother, will ever change how much she means to me. She has loved me more unconditionally and true than anyone else I know. The day I lose her is going to be the end of me.
I love you Nanny <3
No comments:
Post a Comment