When a young woman dies in Kentucky

So often when you lose someone to an untimely death you ask why? Right now I'm screaming it from the mountain top.

Tom and I lost one of our grandchildren this week to a car accident. Melanie was one of Tom's grandchildren; however, I claimed her and her two siblings as my mine, too. We both loved her with all of our hearts. We only knew her and her amazing family since 2017, when Tom found his oldest daughter, her mother Robin, through DNA testing.

I first met her at a restaurant at City Walk, Universal in Orlando in July 2017. It was the only time our whole family was together. It was when my husband met his daughter R, and our daughter, M, met her sister. We were all so happy.

Her mother told me (in front of Melanie) that Melanie had helped organize a women's march at her college, and that she refused to wear make-up or shave her legs. I looked Melanie in the eye and said, "You're for me!" She smiled in that Melanie way, that smile that lit up the world.

She was only 25. She was brilliant, a Fulbright Scholar, a feminist, both logical and fierce in her quiet ways. I thought we had so much more time.

Hair

I just read a post by 37th Dream/Rumors of Peace about friends of hers in 1967. She posted their senior pictures. I am in love with the hairstyles from the 1960s. They were so sleek and straight and gorgeous. Think Marianne Faithful or Patty Boyd. I also liked earlier teased (and sprayed) hairstyles with the perfect flip. And bangs. Geez-o-freakin' Pete! What I had to do to make my bangs stay straight for at least half the day, especially during humid summer months.

Naturally curly hair was a cross to bear throughout the swinging 60's. Growing it long and not having bangs helped weigh it down, but it was still too wavy to be cool. I tried ironing it. I used big oversized curlers.  Then Janis Joplin came along. I never struggled with my hair again, and the humid summer months were the absolute best for crazy hair.  

Me in 1969, feeling pretty darn good about my hair:

Falling victim to the plague

Well, I got COVID. First our daughter got it, then I did. Then both our husbands fell victim to this plague. My daughter's children didn't get it for some reason. We also passed it on to Tom's daughter R's husband Ch. They were visiting us at the time. But R didn't get it.What a strange virus, picking and choosing victims seemingly at random.  

All of us are vaccinated and boostered and none of us were deathly ill.  For me it seemed like a bad chest cold, although I also experienced chills. I'm not complaining, having chills meant I could snuggle up in bed with both a top sheet and a blanket covering me. I miss being cold on occasion, especially when I'm in bed trying to sleep. There are only a couple weeks each year that this Floridian needs more than just a sheet.  

We were advised to use Mucinex and DayQuil, both of which really helped during the worst of it. All we wanted to do was sleep. Time stood still.  

I lost my sense of smell, which has yet to return. Not surprising since once COVID petered out and I tested negative, the monster left me with a sinus infection.