Aunt Mapi’s dresser was filled with blush and lipstick. His nails were short and perfectly painted. She was always graceful. She combined femininity and determination. He was in love with Gran Canaria and on television he defended the Canarian accent of journalists. She didn’t understand why some of them were hiding their lisp. “How beautiful the way we talk,” she said. When her career grew, she studied when her college opened on the island and died as rector. I miss our conversations with gin and tonic. You can be yourself with it.
I remember her bravery from my German Canary grandmother. She was one of the first women to divorce her husband and raise four children with considerable loneliness and difficulty. He ran a school, started a business, traveled the world, and was a bridge teacher. She had purple hair and also dyed her lips red. He criticized me for wearing jeans. I admire your courage today. How lonely and questioned he must have felt many times, but how true to his principles. You can’t be the same as himBut he was the person he always wanted to be.
Another of my aunts has a unique perspective on analyzing emotions and solving problems. It is unexpected and does not leave you indifferent. Respecting the family tradition, it combines and values all the efforts of our ancestors. It is the voice that reminds us that we are here because there were many before us.. He has to deal with multiple contradictions. She misses order and quiet, but her son plays drums at home and her husband is a computer scientist devoted to wiring. He meditates in a few spare moments. Or Try. My other aunt is a dumb girl. All the females had their long hair cut and walked around our city in knee-high boots. Today she wears a sun hat, travels alone and cannot eat without a glass of wine. She walked forward, putting aside everything that had slowed her progress.. She had to learn to live with the frustrated desire of not being a mother., even though he wanted it intensely. No one who has not been through it knows how heavy that void is.
my grandma. He would be about 99 years old today. Strict to many, but never to me. It has a feminist spirit but is traditional in its own way. He never made me feel like I was doing anything wrong or I was in the wrong place. When dementia took away tradition, a sense of humor, flexibility, freedom appeared. i miss him every day. My mother has an unlimited capacity for curiosity and pleasure. He knows how to see the immensity of small things. He is stubborn, an oak of consistency and wisdom. My mother is my mother. My safe word. my reference My sister is the greatest of the sciences. The epitome of kindness and unconventional intelligence. He accurately describes feelings and can tell you that his heart cries while you are away. Next to him everything is full. When my daughter was born, I felt partly because she was the sum total of all these wonderful women. Future.
the day before yesterday, 8M, A journalist talked about the importance of female role models. I am lucky. Mine is extraordinary.