top of page

A Woman of All Women.

  • cynthiafoustvenner
  • Jun 26, 2021
  • 1 min read

To say my Grandmother is a force of nature, is a gross understatement.


When asked how she is doing, her consistent reply is, "happy to be aboard."


But the reality is, we are all happy to be aboard her ship.


We are enthusiastic about her her advice. Learning about her history. Soaking in her legacy.


Schooled about her level of class, and appreciating a woman who dominates and cultivates.


A woman who raised a pack of fearless females to take no prisoners and whom have been prepared to stand alone.


The true definition of a lady, who was and continues to be, before her time.


A woman who broke the mold, and created one impossible to fill.


A person who gave reason to watch and listen to.


A woman who had me at high tea and late night Delray dance parties.


A human who tells it like it is.


A woman who has lived so many lives, I can only wish to live one of.


This fierce female whispering and shouting at the same time.


A person who has shown true grace during so many hardships.


A woman who, on even my best day, is 100% more impressive than me.


With an amazing wardrobe and fresh squeezed orange juice, serves the best smile.


The consummate hostess.


May we all bring a bit of Catherine, Katie, Peaches to the table.


To know her is to love her.


So to the woman who taught my Mother and I, everything we know.


You need to know you are loved, you are adored, you are cherished and you are admired.


Thank you, thank you, thank you.


We love you!


HAPPY BIRTHDAY!


SLAINTE!


Cynthia, Liam, Charlotte and Eloise.

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Three and Me.

I enjoying cooking and trying new recipes. With 3 kids and no adult enjoying my creations besides me? Shoot me. Like I said my cookbook will be called, 2 out of 3. You would think these people graduat

 
 
 
Remember.

Remember to let the rain hit your window. Remember to listen to it. Remember to let your scars tell your story and remember to be proud to regale the tales of how you got them. Let your hurt serve to

 
 
 
Never My Love.

That was our song. The silence of your absence screams. The cruelty of your love being stolen from me? Contemptible. Missing your humor and touch? Irreplaceable. That laugh. I see now, that only those

 
 
 

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post

Subscribe Form

Thanks for submitting!

©2020 by 2020 The Year That Nearly Killed Me.. Proudly created with Wix.com

  • Twitter
bottom of page