This past week was my last time with a sweet, sweet girl named Mackenzie who I’ve had the pleasure of nannying for the past two years. When I first started working for her family, Mackenzie had just finished middle school and wasn’t really sure who she was or what she stood for. Two years later, she’s now three inches taller than me and has grown tremendously. Although she won’t find her true voice until she’s a bit older, I am proud of how much she has grown.
When Mackenzie found out it was going to be my last day with her, she insisted on making her dad’s famous strawberry smoothie for me — a simple recipe but a grand gesture. She claims that her dad, who is now deceased, invented the vanilla ice cream, strawberries and milk smoothie, which is just a slight peak into her younger-self. A peak at the bit of naivety she still has, that I didn’t have the heart to correct her — no Mackenzie, your dad didn’t invent this recipe. I was too caught up in the gesture of her making these smoothies for me.
I was her nanny, but now on my last day, she was taking care of me and letting me into a part of her life that she reserves for only the people that she holds closet to her.