I can’t say there are many days that pass that I don’t wish I could call her. I called her to tell her about the good things in my life and the things that worried me. We celebrated or prayed together. I called her to tell her about the funny things Charlie did and even before that, that I had just bought a dog and that she was the first phone call I was making on my way home. I can still remember her response, “No you didn’t! Ashley! You finally got your dog.” Since I was very little I’d wanted one and she would always say, “Someday honey, you will get the perfect one.” In the meantime, she put a photo of her own dog, Sable, in the local newspaper for the Dog Edition, with the caption: “Sable Thurby Owner: Ashley Paige Thurby.” I cut it out and took it to first grade with me, so proud. Some people are blessed enough to be as beautiful on the outside as they are on the inside. That’s my Nanny.
January 28th, 2018. It’s been one year since one of the worst days of my life– not because of getting the news early that Sunday morning or because of everyone being so sad, but because of the reality of her absence when walking into her house. And the sad part is experiencing that over and over again. It’s not a new normal. It will never be normal for us. She made it the family it was. They say time heals, but it really doesn’t. It’s just that time continues despite how you feel. You become more capable of blocking those feelings out, but they still sneak up on you and your eyes burn when you know you can call her number, but she won’t answer.
Nanny always saw the good. Nanny always stuck up for what she believed in or what she knew was right in her heart. She always made others laugh. She was feisty and I’m sure that’s where I probably got that part of my personality. We really were the best of friends. I remember this one time when I was in high school we were vacationing in Ocean City. She was mad at me for having tan lines. Like really mad at me. I had on a strapless top for dinner and she demanded I put some of her Jergen’s self-tanning lotion on my chest to cover up the pale marks where my bathing suit had been all week. She was SO mad at me for refusing that she called over a young man that was a waiter and said, “Sir, excuse me, could you please tell my granddaughter that her tan lines look silly?!” He said he thought they looked fine, but I was so mad at her, I told her that her earrings looked like headphones. I can’t even count the number of times we retold and laughed at this story– so many times over and over again. (Yes, the above photo is from that night.. lol!)
Nanny always had her bags packed, ready to travel somewhere new– much like someone else pictured above. <3
Nanny always went all in. At our home in Elk County, a rickety old wooden bridge had to be crossed to access our property. Through the years, the bridge seemed less and less safe and stable. It had been there for over a hundred years and historically, it held significance. Nanny fought and fought to get that bridge replaced. After being told “no” a million times by the historical society, do you think she gave up? LOL. Not when it came to the safety of her family on hunting trips and family weekends spent at that home! Of course, she did not. She just kept fighting for what she believed in, for her family’s safe journey to our Camp over that river. She wrote letter after letter. It took a few years, but we got a new bridge. And not just any bridge, a shiny steel immaculate bridge that will allow access to our family’s home for years to come. She had a way of finishing what she started.
One of Nanny’s favorite things to do at the beach was to go to breakfast each morning. Her favorite places in Ocean City were the Bayside Skillet and the Dough Roller. She loved the crepes at Bayside Skillet. Now, at the Dough Roller, they had a toy chest for the children to choose from when they left. And Nanny…well, she liked to get her turn so she could bring some of the cute prizes inside it back to PA for the kids in her life. She still went shopping for everyone, but the Dough Roller toy chest was her challenge. It was full of little trinkets, animals, and the cutest little items. If we got a really nice waitress, she would ask to pick a few things out of the toy chest. If not, we would hit up another Dough Roller the following day to check out their toy chest. LOL. One time, we were done with breakfast and we couldn’t find Nanny. We walked around the corner and there she was. We could only see her feet and her bum. She was head first in the toy chest. I know I have a photo of it somewhere. When she finally came up for air, she held a plastic crab in the air, “I FOUND A CRAB!” she beamed. When she would find toy chest success, she would set them all out and say, “Now, this one is for my friend Becky’s granddaughter. And this one is for… [insert list of children Nanny couldn’t wait to give these toys to].”
Every year, I want to tell stories about Nanny so that others can remember her and smile too. I hold these stories close to my heart and remember them when I start to feel sad. I can’t tell and re-tell them with her anymore, but I can hear her laugh like it was yesterday in my mind when I close my eyes, “Oh Ashley. We had so many good times,” she would say. And thank God for that. I didn’t realize then what they would mean to me now.
In closing, I have one final story to tell that happened on February 8th, 2018. I had just lost my Nanny Thurby less than two weeks prior. It was my very first birthday without her. She always called. And she always told me the story of the sunny day in February that I was born. I walked out of work and climbed into my car that snowy day in 2018. I started my car and buckled myself in. “You have one new voicemail,” my car said. Hmm. That’s weird. I didn’t hit any buttons and I don’t have any missed calls. “Do you want to play it?” “Yes…” I replied.
“Hi sweetheart. Happy birthday. I thought maybe you might be on lunch or something. I just wanted to tell you happy birthday. This was one of the greatest days of our lives when you were born. Talk to you soon, honey. Buh-bye.”
-Voicemail from Nanny: February 8th, 2012
Tears. Immediate tears. How? Why? I have several saved voicemails in my phone– partially because I’m terrible at deleting them. Why on that day, when I needed it most did my phone play me a voicemail from my Nanny over the speakers of my car on my 28th birthday? Because she knew I needed it and it was a message straight from Heaven. See? Of all the things Nanny was, she was a Believer. She prayed and she told me on several occasions when she was sick that she didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t wait to meet Jesus. I just want to let all of her dear friends know that without a doubt, I know that’s where she is. And she will see us all soon.
I love you, Nanny. And I miss you so much. <3
xo,
Ashley
She was a fun, beautiful (inside and out) careing person. I always said “she was my idol” . We bonded on our first phone conversation! She is why I became friends with your aunt.
What a great job you did showing her life. So nice.