One of my aunts died yesterday, at the age of seventy-five.
She was one of my Dad's sisters. And, of the six siblings, she was - by far - the tallest.
I didn't get to see her very often but, when I did, I was always impressed by the way that she carried herself. She was never one of those tall gals that slouch and avoid wearing heels. And, when she rose from a chair, she always pulled herself up to her full, magnificent height.
Compared to her and her daughter, I am only of middling stature - a tad under 5'10". But, for years, I was taller than my friends and classmates and I didn't go out with a guy taller than myself til I went away to college.
During my teen years, I might have easily turned into a slouching, teenage female - uncomfortable with my height - awkward around guys too short to kiss me without a ladder.
But that never happened.
I have my Aunt to thank for that.
Her example taught me that a tall woman should be proud of her height.
Besides....We're worth the climb.