Here's to Thee, Mary B.

When I was 12 years old, I lived with my Great-Grandmother, Mary B. Martin. One day we were enjoying eachother's company over lunch, and I proclaimed,

"Grandma, when I grow up, I think I want to be a manicurist."

"No you don't, honey. You want to be a writer," she intervened. "You're a writer."

It's not that Mary B. didn't understand or appreciate the value of a nice set of fingernails. She herself had once owned a beauty salon.  I guess she saw a stronger talent in me from an early age; I authored published poems, received excellent grades in writing, and helped her illustrate and design her own children's' books.

I won't say that this is my first attempt at living up to those writer dreams she once aspired for me to pursue- I've had my fair share of blog ambitions, college writing classes taken, and a couple of solid years writing successful press and web content for my husband's previous company, TicketKick.
But here I am, and I dedicate this post to you, Mary Bentley. Thanks for helping me aim higher.

Mary B. Martin 1933-2012