As a mother, I believe that one of my most important missions is to build memories for my daughter. And some of the most precious have been those she’s shared with her grandma, my mother.
She was funny, feisty, and frank. She loved to speak Yiddish, but she also loved to curse. I dream about her frequently and talk to her in my head all the time.
This morning I realize I want to surround myself with songs, “Happy Birthday” when another friend reaches a milestone. And every damned Beatle tune I get the opportunity to recall.
A writer reflects on her Aunt Alda, an immigrant, World War II factory foreman, and beloved daughter with a pet name out of the movies.