There were no influencers at the time. No YouTube. The only thing social, (sans the media) could be found at the Clinque counter in the center of Herberger’s Department store. And so my mother followed her own guts, her own grace, and decided upon the royal blue purse. 

I suppose it was the way she carried it, carried herself, but people began to notice. To comment favorably. She was the woman with the blue purse. And I would watch them, watching her — looking away from the three way mirrors to get her reaction. Smiling. Then making their way to the purse section.

What some are calling guts these days is really just shock, pure laziness of spirit. Without the addition of grace, it is simply blather. Most have forgotten the need to carry, and simply shove. 

I think about the choices I make. I don’t always get it right. But there is love in the attempt. And I think, I hope, with that alone, I can stand in the shadow of her blue purse, in the glow of guts, in the warmth of grace.