We just unearthed this photograph of my great grandmother, a madam of a house of prostitution in Raleigh, NC. Here she is during that period of her life, 1929 or 1930, in a silky kimono-like jacket, wearing pants on her front porch.
I thought of her today while reading this article on genetics and how they're handed down. It reads, "Like silt deposited on the cogs of a finely tuned machine after the seawater of a tsunami recedes, our experiences, and those of our forebears, are never gone, even if they have been forgotten. They become a part of us, a molecular residue holding fast to our genetic scaffolding."
I'm thankful for her resilience.