51 years ago tonight, I was about to go out to dinner with my grandmother.
I was a first-year law student, and Grandma was setting sail from New York harbor the next day.
As Grandma got dressed, I was watching Walter Cronkite. LBJ had died and Roe v. Wade had been decided.
At her 60th birthday party, Aunt Margie told her celebrants that, on the next day, when the House of Delegates was expected to enact the legislation making the Roe standard the law of Maryland, I would be one of the floor leaders.
My first substantive conversation with Rachel, my niece, was about a woman’s right to choose. She was a Boston University undergrad at the time. Now she is the mother of two girls.
This morning, I wrote Aunt Margie, Rachel, and my cousin, Babette, named after my mother:
“As you know, I am so proud of the role I have played in protecting the health and well being of the women I know and love and the women I serve.”
