Nancy Perry Graham EDITOR
My mother and my older daughter, Jessica,
share a few traits: They are both blond, petite,
and headstrong. They are also separated in
age, energy, and interests by eight decades,
which makes spending time with the two
of them, simultaneously, a challenge. (One
example: Jessica’s chaotic cooking experiments—such as
creating edible “play dough”—fight with Mom’s growing
need for calm and consistency.)
It’s a challenge I tackle each summer, when “Nana” joins
our large and noisy household for several months to escape
the Florida heat. For the most part I do it happily, knowing
now is the time to make memories that will last forever.
In September Jessica turned 13. To celebrate, I’d promised her a trip to New York City, just the two of us, for a long
weekend. We both agreed it would be fun to bring Nana
along. Nana wasn’t so sure. Though she’s in great shape
for her age, the idea of traipsing among the mobs of Manhattan made her anxious. I give her credit for saying yes.
The word yes provides entrée to unexpected adventures.
Here’s how we made it work: For each activity Jessica
enjoyed—the LEGO store displays, the American Girl shop,
Making
Memories
MANHATTAN PROJECT Jessica and Mom found common
ground appreciating the flowers at Rockefeller Center.
As a 28-year-old reporter for Fortune,
I helped writer Ann Morrison cover
the January 1984 launch of the Mac.
Meeting Steve Jobs was like plugging
yourself into an electrical outlet; the
energy was that intense. (See Ann’s
story, “Game Changer: Steve Jobs,”
page 47.) I liked him—he was my age
exactly—and we stayed friendly for
a time. Meeting for coffee one Saturday in Manhattan, we
talked about the quest, as unmarried workaholics, for a
personal life. Even in his regular moments, though, he was a
singular guy on a solitary journey, and it showed. —N.P.G.
i WITNESS TO GENIUS
the Jekyll and Hyde haunted restaurant—we chose a corresponding activity for Nana: coffee at Rockefeller Center,
strolling through the Plaza Hotel, dinner at a sidewalk
café. And Cirque du Soleil for all of us. The best part for
me, though, was watching Jessica and my mother bond, as
Jessie took Mom’s arm and protectively guided her along
the treacherous (in Mom’s eyes) Big Apple sidewalks.
Sure, we had our meltdowns. Cursing the crowds and
kamikaze cabs, Mom noted the obvious—“I could never
live in this city!”—once per hour for the full three days.
Jessica pouted when I said no to a 20-minute hansom-carriage ride costing $50. Frustrated, I left them both
sitting glumly on a bench and took a walk along Central
Park South by myself.
But those weren’t the moments that stuck with Jessica.
Just last week she asked, “Is Nana going back to Florida
soon?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Why?”
“I’m sad,” said Jessica. “Nana’s fun.”
The anxious and angry moments are fleeting; the mess
from the play dough can be swept away. But the memories
of good times together stay with us for a lifetime.
CLOCKWISE, FROM TOP LEFT: ART STREIBER; COURTESY OF NANCY PERRY GRAHAM; DIANA WALKER/SJ/CONTOUR BY GETTY IMAGES
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