When my grandmother passed, this was my request from their household, my grandparents’ earthly goods in Greensburg, Indiana. I felt much solidarity with my grandmother, she of the cast iron support.
The collection of forty trivets – which began when my grandmother inherited her mother’s trivets and buttressed by souvenirs collected during their retirement trip out West – has adorned our kitchen walls every since: three houses only, not bad for a move-many-times person like me. I felt like a nomad for a time, led by circumstances beyond my control and desire.
No, I wasn’t an Army brat. I wasn’t a brat at all.
I think that my compatibility is proven by this fact: Larry and I have been together 41 1/2 years, married 38, as of last week.
The opinions expressed by the husband in this house are considered necessary: we co-manage in all things, neither having to be right, a need of which I cured him with accepting positivity. He loves me and is an awesome side kick, occasionally giving me the kick in the pants that I need. I spark and spur him, too. Congratulations all around.
Cherished love and mutual respect: not a trivial thing.