Seven

For years I didn’t know what Scrappy meant until my brother told me.   It that it is what fighters are called. Scrappy.   It fit.

She fought everything.  She fought for social justice by wearing an Afro in the 1960s to show solidarity with her black teacher friends.  She fought to communicate better.

“The thing in life is simple.  You have to communicate.  Say what you want.  Put your cards on the table,” Mom said.

She wanted a different life for us.  One that was more open.  Not quite sure how to get this, she sure tried.  But Mom also had a limited filter.  Her words were like a saber sword.  Another contradiction to the Margaret Mead openness.  But I understood her wanting.