Lilibet
Growing up with Aunt Lilibet was an experience that left no room for mediocrity. She was the epitome of success, a woman who could command a room with her posture alone and who believed that life required a full-throated commitment, whether it was ironing a shirt or delivering a crushing monologue. Her acting career on "The Young and the Restless" was legendary in our family. Aunt Lilibet didn’t just act; she dominated the screen, bringing so much gravitas to a soap opera that even the writers had to step up their game. She could make a scene about a missing scarf feel like a pivotal moment in a courtroom drama. Watching her, I learned early on that whatever you do, you should do it with the kind of conviction that could make a room full of bored housewives drop their knitting.
Aunt Lilibet was a strict mentor when it came to success. She had no patience for half-measures. When I told her I wanted to be a writer, she didn’t pat me on the back and say, “That’s nice.” Instead, she shot me a look that could slice through marble and said, “Then write something worth reading.” Her version of encouragement was equal parts motivation and terror, but it worked. I realized that if I was going to go after my dreams, it would require the kind of effort Aunt Lilibet put into memorizing lines and nailing every scene. Every moment with her was a masterclass in commitment and the fine art of delivering your best performance, even if that performance was folding laundry while delivering a scathing critique of daytime television.
And then there’s Uncle Jeff, the only man with enough guts to match Aunt Lilibet’s energy. His proposal was nothing short of legendary. Most people would think a quiet dinner or a romantic beach setting would do the trick, but not Uncle Jeff. He waited for a "Temptations" concert, got up on stage, and proposed to her in front of thousands. Imagine Aunt Lilibet, mid-concert, surrounded by Motown legends, when Jeff suddenly steps up and pops the question. The audience erupted, Aunt Lilibet was momentarily stunned, and then she gave a nod that said, “Well played, Jeff.” It was a move so audacious, so bold, that everyone there knew they were witnessing something iconic. From that day on, Aunt Lilibet and Uncle Jeff became the gold standard for going after what you want with flair, confidence, and a bit of showmanship.
Aunt Lilibet taught me that pursuing dreams isn’t a polite request; it’s a demand. You throw yourself into the world with all the intensity of a soap opera star facing down an unexpected plot twist. Her life was a testament to the power of persistence, talent, and a flair for the dramatic. Whether on screen or in everyday life, she showed me that the stage is always yours to command, and when you’re ready to make a move, make sure it leaves everyone talking.
