This story belongs over here:
Mary Tyler Moore died on my mother's penultimate birthday -- strange, as my mother had an absurd love-hate relationship with Mary Tyler Moore: when Mary was on DICK VAN DYKE, and early-MARY TYLER MOORE, she thought Mary was just
adorable..... But something changed. Soon, no one could even mention Mary in my mother's presence without her stiffening up... One day,
her mother -- my grandmother (the one who reminded me of a blend between Miss Ellie and Judith Anderson, whom she adored) -- asked me why my mother had such an issue with Mary Tyler Moore. I answered, with pubescent confidence, that when Mary Richards (a woman in her thirties) was revealed to not be a virgin, Mom had an indignant moralistic reaction from what she saw as a personal betrayal. I knew I was right, and I
was right, even though Mom had never explained it... My grandmother, not a lascivious person nor prone to blue humor, didn't respond and only looked down at the table bemused (no doubt at her daughter's prudery, and the fact that her youngest grandson, still a mere whisp of a boy, had figured out my mother's ridiculous reasoning). Twenty years later, when mother learned that Mary was a vegan and an animal rights activist, Mom suddenly
loved Mary Tyler Moore again, as if those two decades of seething contempt never happened.
Mom's tragic problem was that she never had any problems, and thus had to make them up.
Love is all around, no need to waste it...
