My sibs were clear about their roles in her service: Wendell would deliver a pristine poem and speak of Nancy Blum in her early days as May Queen.
Steph would eloquently describe the Nancy Wood beloved by dear friends and colleagues as her life in High Point unfolded.
I would paint who she was as a grandmother.
Nanny.
It’s a persona I now proudly share as Coco. New grandmother to sweet, shy, perfect Beau and partner-in-crime with dear friends who have recently also added a grandma rally cap to their hat collection.
There is little better in this world.
I passed the Little League fields this evening where our boys played. My heart and mind immediately raced to this story. It’s been 13 years.
Thanks, as always, for indulging me.
—
May 2011
I’m Courtney, Nancy’s youngest.
Well, her youngest daughter. The real “youngests” are the topic of what I want to share today — her grandchildren.
Whom she adored.
My son Denton, her only grandson and “best boy,” played Little League baseball. And each spring, Nanny made sure she found ample bleacher time at the fields cheering him on.
In 2011, as Little League season was in full swing, family and friends planned to participate in the annual Walk to Defeat ALS in Greensboro in mom’s honor. We’d arrive all clad in our purple shirts, a proud part of Nancy’s Naughty Neurons team (the name her creative and misbehaving neurons comically assigned).
That same spring Saturday morning was also round two of Little League playoffs.
Denton’s last season.
My kid had a tough choice to make; he was only 12. Should he honor team or honor Nanny? We had the facts. It would also be her last season; the ALS would take her soon.
He chose to walk.
And we explained. We told the team about the common ground shared by baseball and ALS, about brave heroes such as Lou Gehrig, Catfish Hunter, and Pete Frates. We invited the boys to wear purple armbands that Saturday — to perhaps think of us on our walk as we thought of them in their game. Cheering each other from afar. Honoring Nanny would also honor a teammate and his brave decision.
I found some purple duct tape at Michael’s to pinch-hit for an armband and gratefully delivered several rolls to our teammate’s house before we ventured off to Greensboro.
That Monday, Denton returned from school:
Hey Mom, Antonio told me about seeing the armbands Saturday.
Cool! Who’s Antonio???
He plays for Carolina Pad.
Oh, I thought we played Cameron Harris on Saturday.
We did.
I was perplexed.
I had only the minimal details of a 5th-grade boy. Curious, I’d investigate further that evening at baseball practice.
I approached a fellow parent and friend and gingerly asked...
So, did they wear the bands?
You didn’t hear?
No.
We have a picture. I’ll send it to you.
Tell me more?
Kent explained that BOTH teams of 10-, 11-, and 12-year-old boys
and ALL the coaches
and ALL the umpires
wore purple that day.
It blew us away. They did it for Denton and for his Nanny. They understood the common ground we shared.
I don’t recall if his team won or not. Victory, it seemed, took on a different sheen that day.
All I know is it’s pretty incredible what a strip of purple duct tape and a common bond can hold together. It’s a story I will never forget.
Nancy Mitchell Blum Wood
February 4, 1935-May 11, 2011
Tears, Courtney, and such a noticeable heart-expansion that I can feel it in my chest. There is still so much light, even when darkness has closed in! Bravo to Denton, his teammates and coaches, and all the other youth and adults who were willing to dial in a motherlode of compassion that day. Your mom was worthy, for sure, but I also know it was bigger than her. Thank you for sharing this beautiful story.
I just love this story!! Thanks for sharing and I'm so excited for your new role as Coco!! Enjoy!