I was born in Scranton, Pa. nearly sixty years ago. I did not live there long, as my parents provided a bit of a gypsy lifestyle for me and my siblings. When we were young, we went back to visit extended family often, but once we moved to California, those visits ceased; it was just too far, and too costly.
Some of our extended family continued to visit us throughout the years, but as life happens, our physical communication became less and less as time marched on; but we always stayed in contact through letters with photos, and occasional phone calls. I know this may seem barbaric with today's instant and constant communication opportunities, but when I was a child, phone calls were very expensive, and a special treat, so they were saved for holidays, special occasions or bad news.
|My dear sweet mother, and my nanny.|
I cannot put into words this feeling, but what I can tell you is that as I am writing about her, there are tears streaming down my face. I have never been able to talk about her, without tears in my eyes, and an ache in my heart. The sadness that I feel over losing her, has never gone away. Just try and imagine how remarkable she must have been to have left such an impression, on such a little girl.
Anyway, back to my story.....my nanny has a sister; my Aunt Helen. Technically, she was my mother's aunt, but she has also always been my aunt, and her five children, my cousins. My Aunt Helen (almost 94), has always been dear to both my mother and me, and we have stayed in contact, throughout the years. My mother's greatest wish, before she passed away, was to go back east to see my Aunt Helen, and my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ron. She also wanted to visit my sister's gravesite; this never happened. She was never well enough to travel.
So, we are making this trip to fulfil not only my heart but to honour my mother's wishes, too. I have not been to Scranton in over forty years, and not to my nanny's house in fifty-three; a very long time ago.
|My Nanny's house.|
We ended up taking a wrong turn, and when we were getting ready to turn around, I saw Moosic Street; my heart jumped, I said, "WAIT! That is the street that my nanny lived on!" Now you must remember that I have not been on that street since I was six years old! I asked Joe if we could please, just keep driving down the street; I am pretty sure he thought I was nuts, but he obliged.
|Exactly the same!|
I was shocked; as it has been so, so long. The last time I was there, was right before she died at 56 years old, from pancreatic cancer. I just cannot get over how my mind recalled those memories, so accurately. It was as if I had been there only yesterday.
I knew that I would have to return the next day to take photos, but right now we had to find our hotel.
Ironically, our GPS picked up our location, and we realized that we were only a short five miles from our destination. Gratefully, we did not have to backtrack and get on the highway and navigate all of those busy roads. I silently thanked my Mom for diverting our route, joining me on this journey, and leading us safely to our destination.
We have no "logical" explanation why her name appeared on that signature line; I had not spoken her name out loud, she had never used my iPad, and I had never written her full name on my pad either.
We just truly believe that it was her way of letting us know that she was with us on this trip; and that she was very happy that we were there.
Stranger things have happened, right?
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