This diary was originally posted at MyDD on July 16, 2008, at which time I was just barely 23 years old. The diary has not been changed in the last 2 and a half years, but it is not something “time sensitive” in the least. I post it here so that perhaps more or different eyes will read it. Considering the animated dialogues we have been having on racism and sexism, I thought it might be relevant, despite being very personal.
”Honey”
That's what I call my paternal grandmother. Before I was born, my grandparents each chose what they wanted me to call them. My dad's mom picked "Honey" because she said she'd never been called anything sweet before. That wasn't strictly true, but she did have a difficult upbringing and an overbearing husband. She grew up as "poor white trash," and why my grandfather married her, I'll never know. Honey taught me a lot of things, as a kid and as an adult, but I don't know that any of the lessons were good.
