After seeing Little Women in theaters, directed by Greta Gerwig, I could not stop thinking about it. Not only did I see myself in Jo March (her temper, her desire to write, and most all to not love but feel loved) I saw all the March sisters within members of my family.
Unfortunately, I am not one of four sisters. Even more unfortunate, I am not a March sister. But I firmly believe my mother, and her three other sisters are. My mother is the 7th of 8 kids, four boys and four girls. And each and every one of my aunts on that side of the family are just another version of what I saw on the big screen. (Just add some crass language.)
Like myself, I see my mother in Jo March. She is strong, smart, and independent. Even though my mother does not write, she lives her life and follows her dreams first, and has no problem being single until she meets a professor, who ends up being my father. She continues to follow her dreams, and is often, “bossy,” and strong-willed.
I see my aunt Ro in Beth March. She is not as loud as the other three sisters, but she too has her own incredible talents. She is kind and strong in her own way, and is talented in music. She is the mold that brings the family together.
I see my aunt Elizabeth in Meg March. She marries a man and has children because there was no bigger dream to her than having a family of her own. And despite the conflicts that come with parenthood, her love for her family, children, and husband only becomes stronger.
I see my aunt Donna in Amy March. She travels to far lands to pursue her dreams, but goes back to where she comes from and falls in love with someone she knew young. (In this case, her college sweetheart.)
Like the March sisters, I admire these women in my family, and I am fortunate to know them and love them. But most of all, I am fortunate to have grown up with them, and for them to have given me guidance to become a Little Woman myself.
rachel hall 