I’ve been fortunate to have many strong women in my life. Starting with my mom, who moved to DC from a small town in Missouri at the age of 19. She’d been recruited by the FBI and was known as “the blonde bomber”. How much does that rock?
My mom, being the strong woman that she is, surrounded herself with other strong women. Growing up, they were constants. Dinner parties, beach weekends, bday party celebrations, holiday’s.
I’m not sure when they went from being called the polite and formal “Mrs. so and so” to being called by their first name. I am not sure exactly when they went from being my mom’s friends to being my friends. It doesn’t matter. Their presence in my life was all that mattered.
Except now some of them aren’t present in my life. Women that, to me, always seemed larger than life ultimately are not. They leave behind stories that I will carry with me, pass on to my kids, tell over shots of Tuaca, remember with a snicker and a “god, I can’t believe she did that!”
I will raise my girls with their voices in my head. I will reflect back on what they would do in a given situation, and perhaps think better of it b/c it may have been illegal. Fun, but possibly arrest worthy.
I will raise my girls, armed with the advice they gave me over the years. I will pass on the recipes and the traditions.
I will raise my girls to be strong women; in that way I will honor my friends.
Have a great crazy day.