Her connections with others are the stuff legends are made of, a legacy of her friendliness. She was left a monetary bequeathment. The woman who passed away was a patron of the bank where my aunt worked for many years as a teller. When she received the call about the sum of money she been gifted she wasn’t quite sure who the woman was. But that is just how she is…
She is familiar and flexible, sometimes flaky and always frank, effusive and occasionally frivolous. She is my favorite.
Witty and wise, honesty is always her best policy. She does not hesitate to tell you exactly how she feels. She says what she means and means what she says and you will always know where you stand.
In all of my years she has never missed a significant event in my life. She is a reliable as the sunrise. Tried and true, she has never let me down. She always comes through in the clutch, whether moving apartments or closing a pool, she is there for whatever it is that you might need. She would leave her deathbed to deliver the cake that she promised to bring. She is that kind of dependable.
She is forthcoming and frugal, funny and multi-faceted, focused and a fresh coat of paint. She is my favorite.
My favorite is wholesome and unassuming. The “baby” by birth order she approaches everything with a childlike simplicity. She is slow to anger and quick to forgive. Expecting the best in everyone she meets and easily ignoring the rest.
She is a born inventor. Armed with a hot glue gun, Velcro and a pair of scissors she makes adjustments she deems necessary to everything from swimsuits to sofa cushions. Her mind is always spinning, a whirling dervish of ideas.
She is faithful and fidgety, friendly and forgiving, sometimes flighty and always fortuitous. She is my favorite.
I hope that I am the best of all of them, I know that I am the worst of some. They my link to the past, my bridge to the future. They remind me of what is really important. They are my roots.