She was an amazing woman--she was already old when she started taking care of us. She got her hair permed regularly, it was beautifully grey and she wore (avon) makeup and black underwear under monochrome sweatsuits and when she got dressed up, she always looked impeccable--although I never saw her wear a dress. She never talked about her age and hated having her picture taken. The radio was always on at Mimi's--inadvertently shaping my early taste in music. She was a huge fan of Rod Stewart, although she confessed to not really knowing what he was singing about. She had 3 children and adopted a young boy after her kids were grown and raised him into adulthood. She was so fiesty, so tiny...
She hailed from Vermont where she said she was raised by the nuns. She spoke with what I can only assume was a Vermont accent--calling my sister Marra-DETH (Meredith) and Cheerios Cheeri-OATS. She was catholic and went to mass, but it was more important to her that we be well-mannered, not interrupt or even listen when grownups were talking. We weren't allowed to peek out the windows to see who was coming (we looked like "gypsies" doing that) and she was one of the only people to reprimand me for unladylike behavior. I didn't much like playing outside as a child, she called me affectionately a "house cat" and made me play outside anyway. When we got dirty, she'd tell us we looked like war orphans. Bad behavior was punished by having a time out in front of the tea-pot wall...floor-to-ceiling open shelves which housed her extensive teapot collection. I arrived there when I was four. Somehow I never had the feeling that she ever condescended to me.
She spent hours reading me my favorite books (Bartholomew Cubbins and the 500 hats, and many others), she taught me how to use scissors and cut properly the summer after Kindergarten. She devoted the entire summer between 3rd and 4th grade to re-teaching me my multiplication tables and made me my favorite pink lemonade "from pink lemons". When I went through a phase where I wouldn't eat white American cheese, she bought orange. When I wouldn't eat the orange, she bought white, all the while telling me that both types of cheese were made from the same milk and that I was being picky and unreasonable. She taught me that there are times to be tough and times to do what you're told. She knew me for a time as well as my own mother did. For my sister and I, she was the absolute authority on just about everything. What Mimi said was law and that was that.
Now that I'm older, I realize that she wasn't just a central figure to my sister and I, but also for my Mum. Without Mimi, we'd have all been lost. She was my Mum's go-to person for parenting advice. Mimi had seen it all. And she'd tell it to you like it was. With her there was no beating around the bush. I am not only thankful to her for making me the person I am today, I'm thankful to her for helping my Mum be the best Mum she could be.
Of course I have regrets. I wish I'd visited more often when I was home, I wish I'd been home more often. But I know that at least as a child, I told her that I loved her. She knew I was working with pre-K kids and I hope she knew how extensively she shaped my ideas on education. I am so thankful to have had her in my life. She's undoubtably helped me become who I am today. If I can do half as well with my own children as she did with those who were entrusted to her care, I'll be a damn fine parent.
