Beanzo

At Brooklyn Bridge Park on one of the first warm days this spring, I photographed the Dary Family, Jen, Chris, and Noah.

Oh, Bean. What a light-filled little lad! You are sunshine in peanut form.

Noah was the first chitlin that I nannied for after I moved to Brooklyn, and from five months to 1.5 years, he’s been a warm, sociable part of my life. On bad days, I would complain, and he would nod along as if he knew exactly what I meant, and then would proceed to entertain me with giggles while we listened to Sam Cooke or chat my blues away in little squawks.

I wrote this for him the last time I watched him.

To the baby I love: 

One year and one month ago, you became a constant part of my world. As a five-month-old ball of whimpers and coos, all head and smiles and thighs, I learned to care for and love you.

We grew together, you navigating your first year – first words and steps and toys – and me my first year in the city. I guess it was both our first years here.

It seemed to fly from my perspective, but for you, it must feel like an endless mish mash of daily cats and moo sounds, walks and bottles, baths and grape halves. Some days with mama, some days with dada, and some days with me.

There was a time when I knew you best second only to your parents, whom I’ve come to consider some of the most influential and important people in my life. They are good stock, and so you are, too.

Tonight, I stroked your blonde hair and temple, your round cheek, as you ate your last bottle before bed. Drowsy when you finished, you leaned heavily into me, nuzzling my shoulder, and we stayed in the warm growing dark of this April evening until you fell asleep.

This is one of the last times I have to remember you and you me, until another unknown time, in a different place across the country. 

From New York to San Fran, you will grow from a smart, sweet-tempered, city baby into a kind and sharing toddler, and no doubt into a happy and empathetic little boy. 

I hope to see you soon, whether in New York or California, as your Sawkster will miss you.

Be well, little bean.

Love, your loving nanny