My Bestemoer
Story Name: My Badd-Ass— Bestemor Bestemor... Grandmother— or I call her Bestemor (which is Danish for grandmother), in her youth, was a stout and tall woman-- she was built, with a fair-freckled complexion, and strawberry blond curls made from tight rollers that tumbled to her shoulders. She had a sort of Nichole Kidman air-- but stronger, as she walked down the street--a real head-turner. She’s always been a stoic lady— it’s likely in her Scandinavian blood. Hardheaded and stubborn—it’s probably where my family and I get our tenacity and unique ways. She married a black man in the midst of the civil rights movement in San Francisco, she was disowned by her Danish parents, and she took up the Baha'i faith-, which was rather uncommon in the 1940’s. She believed in acceptance and oneness-- Close your eyes to racial differences, and welcome with all the light oneness-- Bahá'u'lláh. She insisted on birthing four children despite the desires of others, and tricked her...