Happy Birthday

On May 5, 1920, my Nanny, Elvira Anne Conner Guyton, was born.  She would have been 91 years old today.  She was the funniest, wittiest person.  Two weeks before she passed away, I told her that I would name my child after her.  She would love knowing that I had a baby boy named Conner.  I can already see parts of her personality in him.  I know in my heart that she is watching over him and loving every minute of being his Great Nanny in Heaven.   It is funny the things you remember about a person.  She had an aloe plant in her bedroom in Kentucky.  She had cabbage patch dolls on her bed.  Her favorite grandchild was "Little Allen."  I know this because I would ask her.  I would say, "Nanny, who is your favorite grandchild?"  She would say, "You are."  Then I would ask, "Who is really your favorite?"  And she would respond, "Little Allen."  Every year for Christmas, she would give all of us grand kids McDonald's gift certificates as part of our gift.  For our birthdays, she and my Papa would give us a birthday card with a crisp, new $50 bill.  She taught us inappropriate songs and jokes.  She loved vodka tonics, bratwursts, cheesy peanut butter crackers, Hershey Bars, horses, the Kentucky Derby, and watching TV.  I really think she was the funniest person I've ever met.  She caught on to everything and didn't miss a beat.  Surprisingly, after having a stroke, she was still aware.  Even if she seemed out of it or asleep, she knew what was going on.  No one could ever beat her at Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, or Trivial Pursuit.   In the last few years of her life, I grew very close with my sweet Nanny.  She taught me so very much, and I love her more than I can ever describe.  

Coincidentally, today is also the birthday of a very dear, old friend that I lost 3 1/2 years ago.  I met Katie when I was 11 years old.  We met playing softball on the same team in middle school.  I will never forget when she asked me to come to her house after a game to play, and from that moment on we were great friends.  She was a wonderful person, and I miss her every day.  There is so much in my life that I wish she could be a part of and so much of her life that never happened, but should have.