Memorial Day

What is it? This Grandma Thing? I’d heard other women talk about how amazing it was to be a grandmother, and, when they talked about their grandchildren, they seemed completely, almost embarrassingly, smitten. I really didn’t think that would happen to me — until it did. But, how? Why? For one thing, grandmahood is the ultimate do-over. Even the best parents are only operating by trial and error, and the errors, unfortunately, have really loud voices. By the time we’re grandparents, however, we’ve garnered a bit of wisdom and perhaps some confidence as well. We see that, despite our many flaws and failures, we’ve managed to raise law-abiding citizens who

Fear of the unknown can be quite the compelling catalyst. It is easy to put a feeling on the top shelf, pushed as far back as it can go, in that out-of-the-way closet that is never opened. When it does arise, you quickly avert recognition of said feeling and wait for it to pass from your field of view. This is what the thought of holding a firearm was like for me. I was never really exposed to firearms growing up. My father hunted dove with his shotgun when I was younger. Until I moved out to go to college, the shotgun stayed zipped up in a bag, standing upright

If I had a quarter for every time I was asked this question, I could have paid for my child’s college education. Names are interesting. Southerners love to unearth the family Bible and hunt for names or find old church cemeteries and read tombstones. Charleston people like to use street names; I can make fun of Charlestonians since I am one. Meet my son Ashley Tradd Beufain Smith. Our daughter’s name will be Calhoun Vandeshorst Lockwood Ravenel. My high school bud, Dr. George Gratzick has a great suggestion for twin boys. He said to name one twin Heyward and the other Ulysses. Just yell “hey, you” when you forget which

The perfect dress was waiting for me in a small boutique in Aiken. Caroline’s should have been the first place I looked, but I live in Charleston. I spent an entire afternoon perusing all the shops on King Street with a friend. Nothing fit. If it did fit, it did not look right for my age or shape. Women in their mid-fifties want to be stylish and classy, which should not be difficult when one is a perfect 10. That is, size 10, so yes, I am curvy with an emphasis on hips. I was looking for a dress to wear for my daughter’s wedding rehearsal and dinner in March.