MountainMornings

They came from near and far. My brother from St. Louis, friends and family from New York and Connecticut, the Big Chill entourage, octogenarian snow birds and a surrogate daughter from Florida.

It was the last of many luncheons this year. Everyone wanted to fete my MIL Ada for turning 90, and they wanted to tell her exactly how she had influenced their own lives.
She was a safe haven in the 60s for “hippies” running from their conservative families or the law, or both.
She was a mentor for emancipated women of the Northeast, from Valley of the Dolls to a Fear of Flying and Our Bodies Ourselves.
She was a matchmaker in the pure Yiddish tradition.
She is an artist and loyal friend. A master of reinvention.
She is a wife and mother, a grandmother and now a great grandmother.
She attracts people and fish! And who knew she couldn’t dance?

Because I always thought she could do anything. That anything is possible. Because that’s what she gave to me’, infinite possibilities. Thank you Ada Flora, for being beautiful you – strong and soft at the same time. Brilliant and funny, and always willing to listen. Thanks for letting me hitch a ride on your star.