Ladies of my parents great generation, a continuum.
We must remember the Greatest Generation Women.
I apologize but this article really spins off of a previous one and you kind of need to follow along from that. http://ericdierker.hubpages.com/hub/The-last-of-the-WWII-Great-Generation
Her name was Eggleston. Now Weber. And I love her. She is my neighbor lady. I just wrote her a note of love and brought over some happy food. She returned the favor with some "cocktail" fruit. That is a tangelo and grapefruit hybrid. She ran right back in the house and wrote me a check for a portion of a debt between us.
I damned near did not take it but clearly that would have hurt pride. She is about 90 and forgets stuff. But I just said shucks to my day and started asking her about her life and our trees and heroes. She has more wrinkles in her face than the Sahara has sand and today I took the time to look at each one. Beautiful is all I can say. What beauty there is in age that transcends yet can be amplified by the flesh.
Another woman I knew was 105 when she passed. The last time I saw and sat with her we just held hands and spoke in our both limited French. I do not speak Vietnamese so well and she thought English was just too hard for her. She started her life under a kind of Chinese rule, but most was under colonial French and I lived in Paris for a bit so we kind of spoke a Viet-English-French-Portuguese pigeon that worked for us. Portuguese missionaries basically wrote the modern Vietnamese language in written form. On our last visit my 1.5 year old son and wife burst into the room hollering in Viet that a boy had just in some prized vegetables. Well grandma insisted that it was a sign because this American had come to rescue the family and we should kill the fatted pig that was held in the hidden cellar and she immediately approved/demanded of my wife to be in wedlock with this American. I called her grandma Pearl, in memory of a pearl and of this song:
She did good she only lost one of four sons to war in a 30 year conflict in Vietnam. God bless her!
I do not know what my mother lived through.
I have three moms. A biological one that gladly gave me to a better life than she could give me. She was a dark haired Northern Italiano immigrant to our great country. (her husband died before my birth, mining coal and he was a Black Irish immigrant) And then there was my mom who loved me to her death. How could she raise us six mostly on her own? Wow!
And then there was my honorary aunt, and she took me in when things got a little crazy around my place. Not that a little 10 year old delinquent caused any problems ;-)
All these woman lived through wars. I sure am glad that they did.
And then there was Nina pictured below, and all I got to say there is LOVE.
These woman were there for us, as men went about the business of war and other such things.
Back to my neighbor
So I wrote that note thanking her for here service and for her husband. And she poo pooed it right to my face. And that was awesome. I know she holds that note this evening and is feeling appreciated. I never did claim to be a good man. And I don't even claim to try. But I got these buddies and they urge me forward and from time to time I do a good thing.
In this case it was MsDora and lovely Sparklea and they fulfilled me on this day. And I am thankful.