my grandma, like her mother before her, is one tough cookie. I am blessed to come from a long line of strong, creative, and captivatingly beautiful women. they are red bricks, and I aspire to be as sturdy, as effervescent as my roots. they taught me a good deal, and let me experience head-first the unpredictable nature of the world. it was always a treat as a kid to stay at grandma's, you never knew what would happen. one morning you would wake to eat ice cream for breakfast. by noon, you could have a hammer in your hand, knocking down a wall because she didn't like it. in a few days time, the wall would be rebuilt. there was no asking why, it didn't need to be said. my grandmother is one to take life by the throat, to go after what she wants with no fears, nothing holding her back. I'd like the think she instilled some of that ferocity inside me.
these are pictures of my niece, Emma. she has fire burning inside her, giving her a beautiful, screaming lust for life. she is a wildling, a jokester. she is beautiful, loving, and curious. I know she will lead an extraordinary life, there's no way she couldn't, she comes from such strong roots.
thank you, Grandma. for the ice cream and summers on the boardwalk eating microwaved hotdogs, donning glow sticks. thanks for letting us kids knock down walls in your house, and for letting us play with the antiques without fear of breakage. thanks for dropping everything and driving to NC to help me move without a second thought, for buying me groceries and leaving them on the doorstep. thanks for the magic that still tinkles in me from Paris. and thank you for a lovely weekend, for sharing G.G.'s gift with us. She would have been overjoyed to be there with us, to sit among her thriving family, share our happiness. I love you.
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