cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“Auny” was part godmother and part adopted grandmother to me. She had a pet name all of her own, as she held a treasured and unique place in our family. She worked as a hostess in my grandparents’ midwestern Chinese restaurant. This was in a time before friendship between races was considered acceptable. For decades, she rubbed…
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The day was gray and the air was colder than expected for early November in Ohio. The rain was beginning to turn to snow, making the street and sidewalks slick. My great-great-great-grandmother Franny, her daughter Nettie, and her 23-year-old granddaughter Vivi (my great-grandma) stood side by side trying to keep warm as they waited in line…
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Twenty years ago, Chris and I moved our family back to Michigan, where we both grew up and where most of our family lived. I was glad we took the opportunity after getting married to leave and experience other places and people, and I was also glad to return when we did. By then, we…
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“Hey, Mimi, I read your book.” I was slightly caught off guard as I began to wonder what prompted my 17-year-old grandson to be reading my book at this time of his life. My mind swirled a bit as I speculated as to where this casual conversation may take us.
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My heart is overflowing with the remembrance of mothers. Yes, I have more than one; I am more than one as I am a grandmother as well.
Read More“You deserve better than…” My heart perked up when I read those words from my friend.
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Probably the most normal things about my grandmother Mae Odell Kingsford were: the piano, the violin, The Wizard of OZ and roses.
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