Who inspired you in life?
 

I had the most crazy aunts. They'd come over on Saturday nights in their pajamas and give us all Toni's-a cheap perm. The curlers would be so tight, our heads were practically raw by the time they were done. They taught us to have fun with whatever was available, as our parents had very little money, but we never knew it. We'd stay up half the night giggling, and our Mom would get so mad at her sisters.

Aunts are very special people, and have influence well beyond their nieces and nephews.
My aunt, Rachel, was my early on, periodic baby-sitter, piano teacher,
and then my wise pen-pal for more than 50 years.

As a teenager, she escaped her small Tennessee hometown and it's racial environs.
She never went back. She studied piano in Boston, and taught music in New York City.

Just a couple of weeks ago, this 94 yr old lady was honored by
relatives and friends who gathering from around the US, and Indonesia.

My twig of this family tree was represented there by my daughter, Rachel, and her teen-age daughter.
It was the first time these two namesakes had met in person, but each knew each other very well.

I'm convinced my appreciation for ballet, classical music, my path through college and graduate school,
and my (somewhat :rolleyes:) liberal attitudes towards people and politics, are in large part her doing.

My great-grandfather, who left a job as a silk-finisher in Glasgow that didn't let him support his family. He shipped out to northern Ontario to oversee land for an absentee landlord who turned out to be the owner of a major mine in that area. My great-granddad sent for my great-grandmother as soon as he could; she arrived in late summer with six children (off an Atlantic steamer into Halifax, and then by rail to Ontario and up to, I believe, White Lake - north of Superior - in the back of beyond today and even more so then). When she arrived by train with the children there was no permanent house or shelter for them, and winter was coming on. My great-grandfather was supervising a logging camp at the time. My great-grandmother stood 4'10" and weighed in the neighborhood of 90 lb soaking wet, but she prevailed on my great-grandfather and the logging crews to construct a house for her and the children before the snow flew. Later they moved to Sault Ste Marie and thence to Sudbury, where I was born considerably later (and after my great-grandfather died). I remember my great-grandmother as a woman of strong personality even in her 90s. If I should live so long, I hope someone will remember me in the same way.

How wonderful! My own aunt Lil is still going strong at 88 years young. She's always seen the bright side/the light side of life, even after losing many siblings; including my mom. She actually lives next door to me, and the things that come out of her mouth would make the pope blush. She never stops moving, cooks and bakes up a storm-last week she made creamed peas on toast-delicious, and yesterday was making cold packs for raspberry pie in the winter. She lost her sense of smell when she was 70 I think and she says 'Well you can't smell the good, but you also don't smell the bad' That always brings a chuckle

My wife's step-Dad. He helped me shake off my limited world view and take some chances.

My daughters. I learned to nurture and be nurtured from them.

Pete because she showed me I was loveable.

And Thich Nhat Hanh for summing it up. “To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.”

My grandmother was an artist.

My other grandmother played guitar and sang.

My father was a database programmer, didn't go to church, and also played guitar.