I've been jotting notes and collecting memories the past few days, it's been a good time of remembering. There are so many facets to the woman I grew up knowing that it's difficult for me to decide what will best convey my sense of her. Please bear with me as I find the my voice.
Her home was immaculate. I don't mean tidy... I mean hospital clean, immaculate. Move anything you can envision (bear in mind this woman was prob'ly 5 1/2 feet and one hundred pounds soaking wet). You'd never find a dust-bunny or a smudge regardless the detail of your search. Of particular note were the bed linens, those of amazing white cotton crispness, that only improve with age. This is my personal standard in bedding to this day... in our era of ridiculous thread counts and exotic origins.
Additionally this was a woman who never raised her voice. But make no mistake, she was always heard. Her power (and yet as a very mild self effacing woman I really hate to even use this word) was not in the demanding of respect but in the simple fact that she had earned it. She knew this and so did everyone around her. It is difficult to explain authority that has no insinuated threat... and one that is used humbly with absolutely no desire to exploit.
My earliest memories seem to date back to preschool years... the best impression I can leave is resting gently in the midst of a perfectly sunlit white cloud filled with gentleness, smoothness of sound, and simplicity of spirit.
So... installment one... hope it was pleasurable... remembering was for me =)
