One Summer in New York, A Lifetime of Lessons
- Road Scholar’s first employee, Mike Zoob, stepped up as a nanny for his granddaughter in New York City for the summer of 2003.
- This role led to explorations throughout the city, including Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, as well as new people and experiences along the way.
- Mike reflects fondly on this summer and all that it taught him, and all that he has continued to learn in the years since, including on Grandparent Adventures with his grandchildren.
Some 23 years ago, in the summer of 2003 when I was still finding my footing after my wife’s death, I received a phone call from my elder daughter in New York City asking if I could help her out. Her nanny for her then 14-month-old daughter had to take a medical leave of absence, and she wondered whether I could come down to the city and serve as my granddaughter’s nanny for the summer.
My answer was, “Of course I can!” And so began a life-changing experience for this then 67-year-old father of two.
I had been something of a hands-on dad for my era. I changed my daughters’ diapers, made pancakes for breakfast on weekends and hauled them down to the beach — one in a seat on my bike, the other in a backpack — watching over them as they played in the surf.
I had plenty of friends in New York from my college and law school days, and I imagined spending time with them when I wasn’t caring for my granddaughter. I also looked forward to taking advantage of the many museums, restaurants and theater offerings the city had to choose from.
From 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., Monday through Friday, I assumed my nanny duties, taking the subway from my small but more than adequate room at the New York Athletic Club to my daughter’s home near Central Park, where my granddaughter awaited me.
In a manner of speaking, Central Park — with its winding paths, ponds and many children’s playgrounds — became both an urban oasis and our home away from home. We fed ducks at Turtle Pond while Belvedere Castle loomed overhead, then made our way to the iconic Alice in Wonderland statue, where Alice, the Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat and the White Rabbit provided a playground all their own for energetic young children, attended by moms, dads and fellow nannies.
And speaking of nannies, in due time I became acquainted with many of them on a first-name basis. Some were from the Caribbean, others from Central Europe or Asia. More than once, as they watched me struggle with feeding my granddaughter, changing a diaper on a park bench or searching for a shoe that had somehow gone missing, they offered helpful advice to this novice — and ever so slightly aged — caretaker.
Central Park, New York
There were playdates with other children, swimming sessions for toddlers at Asphalt Green along the East River and no shortage of activities to keep both my granddaughter and me busy. During stroller naps taken in the shade of pin oaks, London plane trees, tupelos and American elms, I often perused the morning newspapers. On especially hot days, my favorite nap-time refuge was the Medieval Armor section of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There it was dark and cool, and my granddaughter slept quietly among the knights in shining armor, forever poised for combat against nonexistent enemies.
That summer, I learned a great deal about myself. I also came to better understand what my wife had done in raising our two daughters. The friends I had hoped to see and the cultural outings I had imagined rarely materialized, except occasionally on weekends. By seven o’clock each evening, I was exhausted. I would take the subway back to my room, savor a Beefeater martini and a hastily picked-up sandwich and head to bed — ready to answer duty’s call again at seven the next morning.
Did I bond with my granddaughter? Absolutely. But I also learned from her. Patience, never my long suit, became a necessity. Watching her discover new things brought great joy. Her laughter and smiles, along with her occasional tears, are memories I will always carry with me.
Some years later, when she was nine and I was 76, we went whitewater rafting together down the Colorado River on a Road Scholar Grandparent Adventure — an experience that made my heart burst with joy. That, in turn, led to programs with each of my three other grandchildren, all of which I have cherished.
My granddaughter has since grown into a remarkable young woman and watching her find her own way has been one of my great joys. As for me, in addition to my formal degrees, I now hold a self-awarded Bachelor of Nanny Studies — recognized by no one but myself, yet the degree I value most. That summer reminded me that learning doesn’t stop with age, and that some of the most important lessons arrive when we least expect them. For that, I am forever indebted to my daughter who asked for help, and to the granddaughter who became my teacher.
Looking for a special way to spend time with your grandchild? Make memories that will last a lifetime on our Grandparent and Family Adventures.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Mike Zoob was Road Scholar’s first employee and helped shape the organization’s pioneering approach to learning for older adults. Over five decades, he’s championed education, community and curiosity as lifelong pursuits — values that continue to define Road Scholar’s mission and inspire its global network of participants and educators.