My mother was the quintessential modern woman. She and my father designed and built their stone ranch in 1960. It had split levels, built in planters with Ivey and a few plastic army guys, a stone fireplace and lots of Danish modern furniture. For as long as I can remember, the Christmas tree matched the color scheme of the living room—powder blue. My father worked in Chicago and they often went to formal events—those evenings began with TV dinners and the lingering scent of Chanel No. 5.
My grandmother was all business though her home was warm and smelled like date bread. There were dishes everywhere, ones you used for eating and others just for show. My grandparents traveled quite a bit—spoons, thimbles and teacups from all over the world hung on the walls. It is my great grandmother who we spent most of our weekends with; playing cards for money, eating French toast, listening to Elvis’ Gospel records, and drinking coffee. Her home was filled with love and tatted tablecloths.
Solving for X: 21
Photograph | Personal