Around this time each year I think about my mother-in-law Mary who would have been ninety years old on her February birthday. She has been gone for thirteen years now and it seems as though I miss her a bit more with each passing year. She was a very wise and intellectual woman, a feminist before anyone had even coined that term. She was, however, not exactly like many of those who march today. She was someone who believed that the true definition of a liberated woman was someone able and willing to do and believe whatever she wished. She never restricted her possibilities with narrow platforms of acceptable philosophies. She was a trailblazer in her own right but she felt just as strongly that every other woman should have the right to live without judgement according to her own desires.
Mary attended Rice University when it was still known as Rice Institute. There weren’t many young ladies there at the time and some of the professors were hell bent on discouraging those who dared to invade the ranks of the male dominated student body. Ironically it was a woman who gave her the most grief, believing that the women in her mathematics class had little or no right to be there. Mary didn’t hold it against the university. In fact she was always quite proud of studying there and was an ardent alumna for all of her life. She enjoyed taking continuing education classes there and loved to exuberantly share stories with me about the things that she had learned. The two of us huddled together on so many memorable Sunday afternoons. She would prepare a pot of tea in the manner that she had learned from her English mother and we would sit at her mahogany dining table while she regaled me for hours with fascinating facts and bits of information.
She especially enjoyed courses on history and politics. Her knowledge was years ahead of everyone that I knew. She predicted events long before they happened based her studies. She kept me informed so that I was always able to vote rationally rather than just with my heart. I so looked forward to those Sunday afternoons when she demonstrated her encyclopedic grasp of the world.I would love more than anything to hear her views on today’s political scene. I have little doubt that she would study each situation with an eye to discerning the truth. She would excitedly tell me the history and the psychology of how we have arrived at the present impasse and such dramatic divisions. In fact she hinted at the possibility of such things almost twenty years ago.
I always thought that she would have been a remarkable teacher but she chose a career in business instead. She had been inspired by her mother who successfully managed an electric company in an era when most women had little idea of how to do such things. Eventually Mary kept did the accounting for a variety of companies and even a wealthy church with a very complex set of books. She was as meticulous and interested in her work with numbers as she was in learning about the ebb and flow of history.
Ironically her very best friend Rosemary shared the same February birthday. Rosemary might have seemed more traditional than Mary at first glance but she also had an incredible story. She grew up in Chicago, the daughter of a plumber. She studied to be a nurse and joined the military where she met her husband, an Army cardiologist. The two of them settled down in Houston where he became one of the most renowned doctors in the world and she raised five independent minded and high achieving daughters. She encouraged her girls to dream big and all of them did, becoming superstars in their respective fields. Rosemary herself is an accomplished world traveler literally able to converse with kings and potentates as easily as she does with me. Rosemary is still spreading joy and uplifting all of us who know her, but she is much older now and somewhat frail. Still her inner spirit continues to radiate her positivity lighting up any room where she is found.
When Mary and Rosemary were together they were like an inspirational power couple. I so wanted to be just like them, women of the highest distinction who were unafraid of anyone or any situation. I liked nothing better than sitting quietly and observing them in the mode of watching and learning that my mother had always urged me to do.
As I prepare myself a cup of hot tea each afternoon I invariably think back to those lovely times when I shared a cup with those two. They were the best of times. I can almost hear Mary providing her well researched opinions on all of the topics that dominate the news today. She would have been well prepared to state a definitive point of view about each. She often mentioned that her secret goal in life had been to move to Washington D.C. to be a translator and a diplomat. She would have been gloriously wonderful in that regard but I am selfishly happy that she changed her mind and stayed here in Texas where I was able to make her a central figure in my life.
Mary was what some refer to as a pistol in a very complimentary way, a twin of women like Ann Richards. I don’t think she was afraid of anyone in her entire life. She had a way of raising her eyebrow when she was displeased that would have stopped the devil himself. She brooked no hysteria nor senseless chatter. She went straight to the point like a championship debater and had a persuasive manner that was difficult to ignore. I like to believe that I developed much of my gumption under her tutelage.
Mary and Rosemary were two larger than life women when ladies were not yet acknowledged so much for their intellect as for their beauty. They successfully challenged the status quo without being overbearing or insensitive. They expressed themselves as independent thinkers and individuals without feeling a need to demean the men that they knew or women who chose other paths. They respected and loved people with such passion that their feelings were invariably felt and returned with immense gratitude.
February is a time when we think of love and remember great leaders in history. It is also fitting that it is the month when I always fondly recall the two women who have had such a profound impact on the person that I am today. From them I have learned how to think for myself, ferret out the truth, make wise decisions and most of all cherish the vast diversity of ideas, religions and cultures in our world. They showed me how to live life by saying to all, “I see you. I hear you. You matter.” That is what makes a mighty woman.
Freedom is a beautiful thing. It allows each of us to decide for ourselves what we believe. Of course there are certain restrictions to our liberties. We agree as a society that it is innately wrong to murder or steal. There are extremes of very bad behavior that virtually all of us abhor. Beyond that there is often room for differences of opinion and for the most part we respect and protect one another’s right to divergent thinking. The bedrock of our free society is based upon the notion that we are entitled to our opinions. We generally have a “to each his own” way of getting along in a highly diverse society. 
I have long been a voracious reader, a willing student of things both old and new. I enjoy considering ideas and long for the days of my youth when academic institutions were places of free discussion, fountains of information from multiple avenues of consideration. I was taught by my academic mentors to be open to points of view different from my own and to listen carefully to even the strangest sounding arguments, for within even the ridiculous there is much to be learned. “Perception often defines individual truth” my professors suggested. Our beliefs are built on the foundations of our unique experiences. Our thinking is the sum total of the knowledge that we have learned and the emotions that we have felt. Our outlooks are slowly programmed as we travel through life. Unless we are willing to understand the totality of what has brought an individual to a particular conviction our arguments for or against will fall on deaf ears. 
I was eight years old when my family and I went to the Trail Drive In to see Tammy starring Debbie Reynolds. I truly enjoyed that movie much as today’s young girls like to watch the programs on the Disney Channel. It was a wholesome and uncomplicated film about an innocent seventeen year old who finds love for the first time. I instantly learned the words to the song Tammy that Debbie Reynolds sang so romantically in the film and belted out the simple tune as I rode my bicycle around the neighborhood. Mostly I became an unapologetic fan of Debbie Reynolds after seeing Tammy and never lost my admiration for her even as the years went by and I became a well seasoned woman. 
We worry as a society because there seems to be a noticeable lack of ethical behavior in today’s world. We’ve seen our fellow citizens gloss over lies when convenient and often make excuses for acts that might have been deemed unacceptable in the past. When individuals have the courage to speak up for their principles too often people chastise them for not going with the flow of modern day thinking. It is more and more difficult for someone to demonstrate moral courage because in doing so they may become the butt of insulting tweets or Facebook posts that demean them rather than celebrate them as the noble people that they are. 
All It Takes Is A Little Love 