Role model

My mother was a model, an underwear model. In those days it wasn't a big deal, and you didn't need to weigh like 40 kg's in order to succeed. She just travelled around, showing bras and corsets to men who were buying. I know, it sounds funny but was totally fine back then. I travelled with her.

I remember sleeping in train carriages on the top shelf...there were three on each side in the sleeping quarters on the train. I slept good, not sure my Mum did.

So she modelled, while I was sitting outside in the stairs playing with a doll or similar, and waiting for her to join again. I might have been 3 or 4 years old at the time.

Sometimes I stayed home with my Dad. I remember him being a very bad cook. One time he served meat with a sauce, and the sauce was so thick a spoon would stand up in it. I complained, but he just thought I was picky. My Dad was a proud man, he would never admit to being wrong. Some people say I'm just like him.

It may be true, but I aim to be like my mother. Kind, accepting and always open for new things.

Only she told me about a train ride when I met my first black man. In those days black people were not common. I screamed.

But it wasn't because of the skin colour of this man, it was because I had squeezed my finger. I remember my mother telling me how embarrassing it was and how much she apologized to the man.

So where am I going with this? Not sure. Just a memory that popped up.