Remembering Mille Naff, my second mom. I have known her all my life, literally; she and my mother were hospital roommates when I was born (and I am just barely older than Emily Ridgway, neé Naff). She was a world traveler, artist, adventurer, great cook and hostess, and was always there for us. She spent 93 years being a fascinating and creative woman and rearing a family with my anam chara John Naff.
She taught me to knit and was my Brownie leader; we were roommates on aship in Alaska and we went whitewater rafting and helicopter touring together. It wasn't football season in Stillwater if the Naffs weren't partying. Lots of nights of bridge and laughs and all the kids in one room so all the adults could be in another. We wrote back and forth with grandkid and in her case great-grandkid updates. I still think of her every single Christmas morning too; she brought us homemade scrapple or cinnamon rolls for our Christmas breakfast every year, and to this day, my family has scrapple and cinnamon rolls for Christmas breakfast every year. I will miss you, Mille.