When I was 19, I was a little lost.
My father had just died, and I randomly decided I would go to New York.
I bought at £99 ticket to JFK, maybe hoping that I could outrun grief in the city that never sleeps.
When I rang my mum to say I had arrived safely, my mum told me there was an advert for a nanny in New York in The Journal, our local newspaper in Northumberland. (This was pre-internet. I’m that old)
How could that be?
I rang the number and they advised me to apply as directed in the ad.
‘But you don’t understand, I’m here in New York,’ I said. ‘I landed today.’
They couldn’t understand how I was there. I couldn’t understand why they were advertising in my local paper at home. (It turns out they had friends in Sunderland)
I ended going for an interview and getting the job
And there began a six month stay that changed my life.
Full circle
As I grieved for my father, this family cared as much for me as I cared for their children Jay, 6 and Ruth, 3. Merri had also lost her father before his time and she intuitively knew what to say and what I needed. Ken, her husband was a doctor and was a kind and encouraging father figure when I needed one most.
Merri modelled how it was possible to have children and build a career that you loved.
Merri was a freelance journalist for the New York Times and she showed me how to pitch, and encouraged me to learn how to touch type
This week, nearly 35 years on, I am in New York for work, invited to take part in a media retreat as a journalist who writes for the nationals.
I brought along my son Charlie, 20, for a little holiday.
Charlie is almost the same age as I was when I first arrived in New York.
Charlie and I met for lunch with Merri (we’ve stayed in touch) and her son Jacob who is now nearly 40 with his son Ben, aged 3.
Full circle.
I am a mother, and I can introduce my grown up, gigantic son to this wonderful family.
At lunch, Jacob and Charlie compared notes of how I used to pretend to be a witch (pretend?) and would threaten to turn them into toads if they didn’t behave.
Merri is once again modelling not only how to have a happy family/career but how to be the best grandma.
Merri has taught me a lot.
You may not be able to outrun your grief, but kindness can help you heal and hanging out with inspiring women can show you the way forward and they can light the way when everything feels rather dark.
Who has inspired you the most in your darkest moments?
This is so lovely.
What a wondrous tale, Suzy! I love the almost-mystery of the beginnings of your connection with Merri and her family - it’s great that you’re still in touch and your son and hers can share little things about you!