I never had a chance to tell her how much she meant to me when she was in this world, so I think it's time to do so now, now that my thoughts are bound up onto a little blue notebook in my room. Virginia was her name, and she was much more than a nanny to me. She had frizzy, dried out blonde hair that was cut just like any grandma's hair would be. She always wore these old fashioned, plain t-shirts. I loved her for it. I loved every bit of her, including her food, which she brought when she came to babysit. We would sit in the kitchen every morning as we smiled at each other, with huge, glossy chunks of orange cantaloupe glaring through my toothless grin. The Price is Right was always at a soft murmur in the background as her giggle filled the room with all of its wisdom and love. She had made the five year old toothless smile of mine a local. Whenever she saw me she would say, "hey girlfriend,” with the brightest and most genuine smile, voice, and love. She taught me that a family isn't just a mom, dad, sister, brother, or a cute little dog. It's a feeling of comfort and sanctuary. It is a strong feeling, with an impacting meaning. This remarkable woman found a way to smile and laugh at even the hardest things we suffer through, and everywhere she went you could see it. She was my nanny, my best friend, and my family. I will never forget her, and one drowsy, draggy, crummy day in preschool. I had taken my curly pigtails that she had been so proud of that morning, out during school during one of my classic fidgeting fests. Thus letting my blonde ringlets find a resting place on whatever outfit she had put me in that day. I ran to the car screaming her name, once again happy to see her. She smirked, noticing my hair down again, so I laughed and hopped in her arms. I took in her smell of home just as a raindrop plopped onto my forehead. “There's my girl,” she chanted as always. After she finally got me buckled and ready to go, she took a turn on the wrong road. From an average person trying to get home on a worm scented day, an urge of anger would have come about followed in a heavy sigh at that time. Not her, though. She laughed, and we took a minute on the random street to initiate a giggle fest . The day may have been gray, but we were shining. It made us appreciate the beauty in the days that looked groggy . Even the days that weren't grey she made shine with her beauty and never-ending love. Even though she may not be here to smile at everyone, I can guarantee you that she is from the heavens above. I will always remember her bending down and smiling at me through the mirror after tying up my little curly pigtails. I will remember her agreeing to take all my blankets in the hallway for my nap because I wanted to have a campout. I will remember 70 year old Virginia having to bend down on the ground with me just to make every “campout” nap in the hallway special. I will never forget all the smiles we shared and all the hugs that smelled of laundry sheets. I will cherish love and the meaning of it forever because of her and the memories I share with her. Thanks to her, I see beauty. She lifted me to reach the stars and not just settle for looking at them. My nanny didn't change the entire world, but she changed me completely. For that, I'm forever grateful. She passed away shortly after my brother was born. I will never forget the day I lost my best friend. However, to be fair, she will always be in my memories. I guess we always have to pay the price one way or another, no pun intended. During my younger years, I witnessed joy and a miracle disguised as a person who smelled of laundry sheets. She was my miracle. Today, I wish to be just like her. I wish to be smiling at even the darkest times of life. I wish to be as strong as she was when she lost a loved one. Today I tear up with joy when I think of the smile I miss so much. If it weren't for my family and the amazing life I live, I wouldn't be able to find something or someone that means more to me than her and the joy she gave me to take on life with. She gave me a bond that not even her passing away could break.