“I was born on the fourth of July and grew up in a little lake community outside of Birmingham. My grandparents had a big farmhouse on a 300-acre farm. I was an only child, but my 15 cousins were always there, and I helped take care of them. We dug worms and fished barefoot. There was always someone to play with.

My dad worked for a steel mill in Birmingham. He had a camper and we took off on the weekends to New Orleans, Pensacola Beach, or Dog River. We would fish, crab, read and play checkers. On a camping trip to Memphis, we stopped by Graceland before it was opened to the public. Elvis’ cousin saw us standing at the gate and gave us a tour of the house.

I come from a musical family. Mom sang, and Dad wrote songs. He took some of those to publishing houses in Nashville. I went with him and got to see a lot of the country stars. He taught me to live life to the fullest and look for the good in the world. Through him I inherited a love for travel and making good memories.

My childhood was idyllic, but my mother died in a car wreck when I was 14. A young newlywed neighbor took me under her wing. She taught me how to polish silver, to arch my eyebrows, and never go to bed with dishes in the sink. Her family owned the flower shop in town and taught me how to arrange flowers. I would later have my own flower shop.

My grandmother taught me how to cook, garden, and can. She had a big table with room for everyone from the hay balers to the Liberty National insurance man. She could whip up a meal out of the blue for neighbors, church people, preachers, and drunk uncles. She didn’t judge or refuse anyone.

We called our grandmother Nanny. She drove a big 1974 Mercury Marquis and loaded up the girl cousins for road trips to the Smoky Mountains or Bellingrath Gardens. We took turns sleeping on the floorboard or in the window over the back seat. She packed fruits, vegetables, cans of Vienna sausage, saltine crackers, and jugs of tea and pulled over for picnics at concrete picnic tables. Sometimes we wore the matching maxi dresses that she made us.

Nanny built a cabin in the Smoky Mountains and got emotional every time she went there. While putting together our family tree, I learned that her ancestors were part of the first families that settled Tennessee. I don’t think she knew her family founded the state that she was so passionate about. Tennessee must have been in her DNA.

At Nanny’s funeral, people told stories of how she helped them at Christmas or bought them groceries when they didn’t have money. She drove them to places that they needed to go. She had unconditional love but never talked about these things.

I lived in the same house that I grew up in until I was 36. I married my high school sweetheart. We had two children, but we divorced after 17 years. I moved with the children to Pensacola because I had good memories of camping there with my father. I didn’t know anyone and didn’t have a job. It was hard starting over, but my children inspired me and have always been my rock. I went back to school and got a job that I loved at a flower shop. I also met my second husband in Pensacola. We were friends first and told each other about our dates. I loved his sons before I loved him. We married and moved to Daphne to be close to some of our grandchildren. I wanted to give them the same experiences that I had.

Cornbread is a legacy in our family. The last thing my mother cooked for me was cornbread. I put it in the freezer and kept it for a long time. My dad remarried, and I loved my stepmother. The last day that I saw her, she brought over fried cornbread and we had a great family lunch. She had a stroke later that afternoon and was gone. I froze her cornbread,too.

When I was growing up, Nanny kept a pot of beans on the stove and a pan of cornbread so there was always something to eat. I would rather have beans and cornbread than anything else. I use the heavy iron skillet that Nanny used to make cornbread. My great-grandmother bought it from a rolling kitchen store that went around on a wagon.

Nanny showed me how to love unconditionally and make anyone family. My friends became the sisters I never had. We have met on every summer solstice the last 20 years to celebrate each other and eat key lime pie.

I also love to wear hats. My kids call me the crazy hat lady, but I never have to worry about my hair.

I entered the corporate world and tried to play down my southern side. I dropped part of my accent and kept the stories of the farm and fishing barefoot to myself. Now I know how lucky I was to have that childhood. Our experiences are the quilt of our lives-the ups and downs makes our lives unique works of art.”

Mimi