Hubba-Hubba: A Daycare Memory by Mary McAtamney
As I was heading out of OTF (our gym) on a recent random Wednesday morning, a woman I didn’t recognize stopped me and said, “Did your kids go to Grace Christian Learning Center? Two boys…?” I was a bit stunned that someone would remember me from the daycare center the boy’s attended 25 years ago (basis of reference being my own memory which is spotty-to-non-existent). I replied that, yes, we were indeed a GCLC family.
She introduced herself, reminding me that she is Jenny - Miss Jenny - and that she’d worked there many years ago. I reminded her that my boys are Brady and Shane. She knew. She remembered.
As we spoke, it was there—the back-and-forth dialogue in my head: the “should-I-or-shouldn’t-I” decision… do I or don’t I tell her…?
Because of my commitment to be real (regardless of whether it creates discomfort), continuously face the truth, share my story whenever possible and always honor my boy, I did.
I told her that Brady passed away last June.
She was, of course, stunned and offered her condolences. And then proceeded to share the sweetest memory: “I’ve always loved the name Brady because of your Brady. I remember both of your boys being the sweetest and most charming little guys. Every time Brady would wake up from his nap, he’d look at me with that sweet little face and say, ‘Miss Jenny, you’re a hubba-hubba.’”
Brady and Miss Jenny
Can you imagine the JOY that brought me in the middle of that lobby? I had somehow completely forgotten about “hubba-hubba” (see comment above about my memory) but it came rushing right back. Eugene, the consummate charmer, was raising his boys to be charming young men as well… and he made sure—with great success—that “hubba-hubba” was among their first words.😍
What a beautiful gift Miss Jenny gave me that morning. To discover that someone carried such a sweet memory from decades ago about how my boys lit up her days. To learn all these years later that someone loves the name Brady because our Brady made it such a lovable name. What a way to start the day. And you know what? I proceeded to have a really good rest of the day because of it. It lifted me. I had another precious memory to hold and carry and share—a story that’s made me smile countless times since…
I saw Miss Jenny again a few days later. I wanted to thank her but before I could, she apologized… she was worried it may have been too much. Her apology was another reminder of just how tough it is for everyone floating around the edges of our loss, not knowing how to be or what to say, if anything at all. But look at what I would’ve been deprived of had she held back out of fear? I looked her in the eye and told her that by choosing to share, she lit up and softened my heart. And she most certainly made my day.
For a grieving parent, stories from others are among the richest of experiences—rays of sunshine in this grey, gloomy grief existence. We long for them. Crave them. Hope for them.
We need them.
Thank you, God, for that ‘random’ Wednesday morning encounter… though, I know with you, there’s no such thing as ‘random”
Thank you for the angels you place in my path who deliver the exact dose of what I need when I need it—the people who speak Brady’s name, share his stories, make sure he never fades…
Please keep sending them—the ‘Miss Jennys’, the moments, the memories of my little hubba-hubba. The angels, the reminders, the winks. And may we remain ever vigilant in receiving them so as not to miss a single one…because we can.❤️
BLOG SOURCE: https://marymack21.substack.com/p/hubba-hubba-a-daycare-memory