Winnifred Viola May Rominger Hudson Bissett
I was home visiting the parents this weekend and I noticed that my mom had put out this hand tinted photograph of my grandmother. My sister found in a box that my mom had in her sewing room. It’s a beautiful image, probably taken when she was in her 20s. It’s hard to imagine my grandmother being younger than I am now.
My grandmother lived with us when I was growing up. She hated birds and cats but she loved us. Grandma was always trying to give us money, which my mother forbade us to accept. I don’t look much like my mom’s side of the family (I think I most resemble my Uncle Charlie Riche), but the more I look at this picture, the more I kind of want to get a Marcelle wave.