How Strait the Gate

I offer these reflections in memory of my mother, Totsy. Her life spanned nearly a century, and her legacy was an assortment of vignettes that recall the people she either courted or dismissed. Her influence on those around her was never casual, and she contributed style and sparkle – and sometimes turmoil – to a world from which she expected privilege and plenty. … She and I took turns being the irresistible force or the immovable object in our own relationship. But at the end, for a moment, we were in step and in tune.