My Mimi

I’m sitting in the hospice by my grandmother’s side. Thinking about what her life was, rather than is, has been a place of comfort. She was a woman who got everything she wanted, and did whatever she pleased. By no means was she a feminist, but she was progressive in her own ways.

In the ‘70s she hosted a plethora of parties, as was common for the ‘70s housewife- but she invited her gay hairdresser and his partner. All that mattered to her was that Doug could cut her hair correctly and would let her tell him when he was doing it wrong.

Again, she was never a political person and to my knowledge never fought for rights of any type. She didn’t burn her bra’s- but she was tolerant of any alternative lifestyles. What she wasn’t tolerant of was mismatched outfits and mixing silver with gold. That was unacceptable.

She was the only grandmother I’ve heard of who didn’t push her granddaughter (me) to get married and have kids. At 85 she knew the value of education and being successful on my own. It’s funny what life teaches you once you’ve outlived three husbands.

It also interesting to think how far women have come in her lifetime- 85 years. Women have been clamoring to work while balancing a family as the media began to represent them as actual people, rather than house objects. While the media still has some strides to take, Mimi doesn’t. She was a loving person who never cared about race, religion, sexual affiliation or gender issue. Those weren’t the important parts of a person and she realized that. It’s time for the media to catch up to my grandmother.