How do you say goodbye to a member of your family when they move away, how do you explain their seemingly sudden choice to your kids, how do you do it when that person is in fact the nanny, someone paid to be a part of your family? There is a strange, sad and grey area between a nanny, her family and her charge, because the best nannies don’t just love their job, they love their charge. I know of what I speak, not just because I’m a mom, but because long ago I was a nanny. And being paid to love a kid is one of the greatest and hardest of jobs.
The woman, who has been taking care (part-time) of my girl since she was 9 months old, is moving to Florida. This woman is an actor on her way to Florida to work the parks and start her married life. She is by far the greatest sitter/nanny/ childcare savant I have ever seen. She never, seriously never, loses energy. She exudes joy. With a musical theater background everything is a song and dance production. My daughter worships her. My daughter loves her. And so do I. We’ve had long conversations about creative careers and men who love video games, we’ve gone on double dates (apparently our men have much in common). And on her last day I cried, twice.
I wanted to impress upon my kid that this was a very real goodbye, that since we aren’t going to Florida anytime soon and our nanny would not be returning to New York in the near future, this was it. But I also didn’t want to push it, “you’ll probably never see her again, so make it count, kid.” For my daughter this doesn’t mean much yet. Florida could be the moon, or two blocks away. This will dawn on her later, when weeks or months have gone by, when she hears a song that makes her remember and she’ll ask, “when can I see her,” and I will have to say “I don’t know.” When I’m fully adjusted to the change, my girl will just be confronting it.
You might say, there’s Skype, Facetime, phone calls, snail mail. There are options, sure. But really, where can we expect to fall on this wonderful woman’s priority list? She needs and wants to go live her life, have her own kids. A letter now and then from mine would be appreciated, of course, but for either of us to expect more than that would be unrealistic (but I can hope). Yes, not all nannies love their kids, but even when they do, I think it is a double-edged sword, a way to be the best at your job, and an occupational hazard. When the paycheck stops, I think the love might have to, too. Just for the nanny’s self-preservation. Or not stop, but exist in the past, the way you love a memory. Just ask Mary Poppins, they can only stay until the wind changes, and it always changes eventually.
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Sarah Moriarty is a writer, editor and adjunct professor. Sarah’s writing has appeared in such hallowed places as her blog, her mother’s email inbox, the backs of Value Pack envelopes and a waist-high stack of mole skin journals. In addition, Sarah has contributed to F’Dinparkslope.com, WhattoExpect.com and edited fiction for Lost Magazine. An excerpt from Sarah’s novel, The Rusticators, is forthcoming in The Brooklyn Writers Space 2013/2014 anthology, The Reader. A resident of Brooklyn for the last eleven years, Sarah lives with her husband, daughter and a dwindling population of cats. Check out more of Sarah’s work at sarahmoriarty.com.