My mom. My first teacher. My inspiration. Because she fell in love and went with it even though he was black and her dad told her NO and the world still wasn't really ready for it. Even though she had never dated a black man. It wasn't about rebellion, about being a hippie, about trying the exotic. It was about following her heart. Pure and simple. And that's how she lives no matter what anybody has to say about it.
The other night in response to me agonizing over flying back to NY for Thanksgiving because it might mean cutting my cross-country journey short I say; But it's a tradition, I say, I feel bad not being here with you. She says, If I would've stuck to my tradition you and Ben never would've been here.