
Today I celebrate the birthday of the most influential person in my life, my grandmother. I haven't been able to share her with you before, because I find it so challenging to capture her in a simple blog post... but today is her 88th birthday. I love knowing you're reading this, Bev! I've always called my grandmother by her first name. She never looked, nor acted like my friend's grandmas. She always says that because she didn't have a grandmother to learn from, she has had to make up her own version of what a grandmother should be. Well, there has never been a wiser and more amazing role model. I hope to be just like her when my children have children. I plan to write a book someday about the three generations of women in my family... beginning with Bev. She has led a legendary life, but I won't start it here, at least not yet. What I want to show you today is one of my most treasured possessions. My great grandfather immigrated from Romania at the age of five. He made his way in this new country by selling gloves. When the Great Depression hit, warm gloves for children were still a necessity. He prospered. He gave his own children everything that he had never had. As a salesman, he traveled all over the world. He sent home the finest clothes and gifts for his darling daughter. She could have easily been spoiled, but my grandmother was taught to value and appreciate everything and everyone. At thirteen, her father decided she needed to see the world... witness how other people lived. She set off on an around the world voyage that changed her life.
my thirteen year old grandmother aboard the S.S Coolidge attending a costume party 5/28/34 Along the way, she bought a trunk and brought it home. Here it lives with me, one of my
most beloved possessions... for the sake of history and my love for her.

Let's open it...

Here lies the heart of a 13 year old in 1934.

In perfect penmanship, she chronicled her adventure in a trip log and journal... including the day she purchased this very trunk in Hong Kong 35 years and one day before I was born. She tells the story of going with her mother on a hunt for a "chest that's just the right size." Here are a few glimpses...


The world looked very different, but she was the same then as she is to this day...
loving, optimistic, and open to connections with people wherever she goes. These are only
three of the millions of qualities she has always modeled for me. I strive everyday to be as much like her as I can. By living with Bev off and on throughout my life, her presence has been a constant source of inspiration. She has always guided me to find my own truth and see the goodness in everyone. Her given middle name is
Hope, after all! But how do you write about a woman who has led a magnificent life for 88 years... the stories are countless. How do you write about a woman who insisted on getting her master's degree (women did not do that in those days), before she agreed to get a marriage license? How do you write about a woman who had everything money could buy, but chose to follow her heart and live her life along side a
brilliant, but poor boy who would give her the opportunity to be his
partner, not just his
wife? They worked side by side: building their home, raising their three children, running their legendary cooperative nursery school , and they are still in love almost seventy years later. How can I write all of it? Someday, there will be a book. The stories are too great and too many to let them disappear. So...
Happy Birthday Bevy! This life you've been leading is remarkable! I promise to write your story... our story.
I love you more than words can ever say!
Beverly Hope with her two oldest children outside of the worksite that was their home... and soon to be the first solar heated house on Long Island. That barefoot girl... my sweet mother.