Nancy B. Miller

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines "to appreciate" as "to grasp the nature, worth, quality or significance of" and "to recognize with gratitude."

Nancy B. Miller regularly said that she wanted to be remembered as "The Great Appreciator." Recognizing with gratitude was Nancy's gift. Nancy sought engagement at every turn; she sought opportunities to truly see people. To see their culture, their beliefs, their hopes and challenges, and to recognize the humanness of their experience. People felt truly seen in her presence. Whether it was the Metro Mobility drivers who came from countries far from Minnesota (she carried in her purse a tiny notebook that had - with phonetic spellings -a few words in Arabic, Somali, Amharic, so she could properly greet and thank her drivers) or the audiologists at Costco (whom she regularly brought homemade chocolate chip cookies), Nancy never ran out of people to learn from, to make laugh, to connect with, and through it all, to make feel seen.

A conversation rarely passed without her saying "I'd get more done if I didn't spend so much time being grateful," or "I'm so bloody lucky to have" and then she'd enumerate the many things so many of us take for granted: good water pressure, warm clothes, a refrigerator with the nourishment she needed. And with each of those things, she explicitly expressed her gratitude for the people who ensured those comforts: the attentive staff at Loring Green East where she lived for 35 years; a dear friend who knitted her a joyfully colored winter hat; the doting staff at Lund's downtown Minneapolis store– especially Jared in produce, Bob the Butcher, Mike in the cheese department, Alex and Gertrude at the Front End, and of course, Chuck the manager.

Nancy lived expansively, whether internationally or at home. She and her beloved husband of 40 years, the late Robert H. Miller, spent deeply satisfying months in Oaxaca, Mexico. There they were engaged with the locals as much, if not more, than with the ex-pat community. Closer to home, Nancy was a devoted member for the First Unitarian Society and a vital participant in their "Active Voices" team, which sought to create actionable messages on a variety of social justice topics; she was also a long-time ticket holder at the Guthrie Theater and the Minnesota Orchestra. When encouraged to trim her budget a bit, she was adamant that she would find other areas to cut back than her monthly donations to Planned Parenthood, PBS, Minnesota Public Radio, and the Sierra Club. And Loring Park, right in her backyard, was a regular source of pleasure. Nancy was featured on KARE-TV and in the Star Tribune for her clear connection with the Park and all the life it supported, including the redwing blackbirds she hand-fed.

Nancy was an editor for much of her life and she had an abiding passion for words. "Etymologitis" she called it. Reading an article from her beloved "New Yorker" would take far longer than it might the average person because she would reach for the dog-eared dictionary that lived at her bedside to dig into the history of the word. Of course, this makes sense, as etymologies show the story of words, the twining of cultures and peoples from across borders and continents, a joining of the disparate that makes a whole. And she used those words in her regular contributions to the Letters to the Editor of the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Published or not (and they often were), those letters demonstrated her vigorous engagement with the world around her and that, after all, it is through words that we can change the world.

Nancy B. Miller died on December 22, 2022, just 20 days after her 95th birthday. That same year she had flown across the country five times to visit her daughter Mari Goldner in Oregon, and Eliza Fischer in California. To the end, she sought connection and lived with appreciation. Days before her death, knowing that the international background would be of interest to her, one of her daughters went to Nancy's bedside to let her know that her new in-home care attendant, Najma, was Somali. Nancy asked her daughter to bring her the little notebook from her purse so she could greet Najma properly. She died the way she lived: with appreciation and gratitude and a deep sense of how we are better together.

A memorial celebration of her life will take place at the First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis (900 Mount Curve Avenue, Minneapolis) at 10:30 AM on Saturday, May 13; reception to follow. Donations may be made to the Friends of Loring Park friendsofloringpark.org/….

Published on March 28, 2023