Today would have been my great aunt Irva's 97th birthday. Sadly, she only made it to her 94th. Still, that's a long time. Imagine the changes she saw in her lifetime. She was the quiet sister. The good girl. The nice one. Or that's what people saw. Oh, don't take that the wrong way. She was those things. She was also the most sweetly determined woman I ever met. She issued orders that had everyone hoping all the while sitting regally and smiling sweetly. No one dared to refuse because it was Irva and of course you had to do what she said.
As I age, I find that I am looking more and more like her. I'm okay with that. Perhaps with the appearance will come the ability to command without seeming to as brilliantly as she could. I sure hope so because it was a true art. Gods, I miss her.
Happy birthday, Irva. I love you.
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