Influential Women
My mother, my Aunt Shirley and my Grandma Hall in November, 2006
For me, these three women are true influencers. I thrill that I even have this photo. Just the other morning as I was waking up I thought of it. It was March 1st, Aunt Shirley’s birthday and as I lay there contemplating my day and what I had planned, I thought of Shirley and this photo.
The context in 2006: We were downtown Spokane shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. I was just ahead pushing baby Addie in the stroller. I looked back over my shoulder and recognized a photo opportunity. Keep in mind, this was twenty years ago. No iPhones people. But, I was in true 2006 scrapbooker fashion, lugging my DSLR around with me AND I gratefully paused to capture this image. Thank you past self 😘
Anyhoo, they are all gone. Grandma passed just 4 months after this photo was taken—she was 96. Shirley died very suddenly of an aneurysm at only 62 and my sweet mama, who made it to 80 has now been gone for nearly five years. I think of these three so often and since International Women’s Day is just around the corner I want to record some thoughts. For here—on my blog—I am inviting you to also think of a woman or two or three, that are influencers in your life. Who’s on your personal short list of females that have shaped you, directly or indirectly. When you’re ready, for each woman on your list, select one word that will represent what she has taught or exemplified for you.
Resilience is my word for Mom. Shirley, for me is connection and Grandma Hall … compassion. I will use these words to guide me in writing something about their influence. I will remind myself as I’m now reminding you to NOT make this hard. Write just a sentence or two—maybe a paragraph, but write something—even in your favorite Notes app. Record your words. If you’re like me and you’ve already waited twenty years, it is ok. The passage of time can lend weight and gratitude to your feelings. Let’s just be sure to do it now, this week—in honor of Women’s Day. Let’s do it together, for them—so that those who follow us will know!
In my newsletter this month, I’ll remind you how easy it is do a little “magic erasing” on digital images.
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📝 Edited 3.8.26
Here’s is what I wrote in my Notes app and shared on Instagram: I have a confession to make and a story to tell. Many of you know that I love to scrapbook, that I have worked and taught in that industry for many years—I took my first scrapbooking class in 1994, but by 1997 I was hopelessly ‘behind’ in my efforts to document the memories I deemed important. Now, I’m not and wasn’t alone. Memory keepers often hold to an unnecessary and unhealthy expectation that they are supposed to ‘keep up’ and then when we fall behind enough that the gap creates overwhelming discouragement, the meant-to-be-fun and fulfilling hobby becomes a chore and just one more way in which we are falling short.
Here’s the truth: Stories take time. The meaning in small moments reveals itself as hindsight matures. I knew in 2006 when I captured this photo that it was special, but had I scrapbooked it twenty years ago, it would not have carried the same emotional weight that it does now. The three women pictured here are some of the most influential women in my life: My mother, my Aunt Shirley and my Grandmother Hall. Each has exemplified different virtues and gifts for me. Each has taught me in direct and indirect ways what is truly valuable in life.
My Mom was endlessly curious and creative, always learning, pivoting, reframing and refreshing her interests and as a result, growing. Mistakes for mom were simply opportunities to make something better. She eagerly shared whatever she had been reading or learning and how she was using it to improve. Mom taught me resilience.
Shirley would stop to talk and engage with anyone—and when you were in a hurry it felt like everyone—she loved people and their unique experiences and stories and she remembered the details. I knew Shirley loved me, because she was interested. Shirley was not an advocate for simplifying. She was a maximalist, routinely sacrificing time, money and sleep to serve and celebrate people she loved AND when she threw a party it was in extravagant detail, but only because she needed you to feel seen and extra special. Shirley taught me the importance of personal connection.
Grandma Hall worried. She had bouts of what I now know was debilitating anxiety, but she always (always) used her concern to motivate service. She gathered and visited people, fed them with love and delicious food and often took your hands in hers, looked into your eyes and expressed her love and concern. She was particularly interested in anyone who was at a disadvantage in any way and she worked tirelessly to satisfy unmet needs. Grandma Addie taught me compassion.
We now live in a world of influencers, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but today—on Women’s Day I’m taking a moment to document, with 20 years of perspective the impact of Connie, Shirley and Addie.
If you are a memory keeper, may I remind you that the 2006 context of this moment does not matter as much as what I see in it now—a powerful story of women—who lived to learn, serve and love. I thrill that I have this photo with all three of them together and I am deeply grateful for their examples.
