Monday, November 9, 2009
Charlotte Vale Allen
I didn't know it at the time. I was 15. Later, when we reconnected, I knew.
She knew my mother. The hell of my mother.
Her first book was called, "Love Life". She survived abuse. Then she became a woman's advocate.
I remember the day she brought the manuscript of her first novel to our house in Connecticut.
She was consequently published 36 times.
She adopted me and my two (2) sisters. She took us everywhere.
She was glamorous, beautiful, impudent and brilliant. Now she is mostly kind.
I'm lucky. Not lucky in love. Lucky in other ways. I get to know interesting people.