It might seem like a shocker, but I was raised by tough broads. My Nanny is my mom’s mom and took me over after Mom left us. Auntie Grace picked up the slack. She had no children and put up with me when Nanny could take no more of the bowl cut with the mouth. I wear a ring every day that Auntie gave me. It is blue. For years I saw it on her dainty hand, and told her every day how beautiful it was.
She has been on my mind.
She gave me that ring. With pride I have it on my markedly longer fingers. Every day of my life, I think of Auntie: she was beautiful and brilliant and talented. She lost her husband too early, she was one of the first deans of women in the US, and she and Nanny fought like cats and dogs. Guess what made me tough? Watching those two wig-wearing Baptists duke it out while I sat on the ciggie burned sofa just hoping I could catch a “Laverne and Shirley” rerun.
I couldn’t love either more.
There is stuff that makes life life. This made mine.
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