My Grandmother Looked—and Lived—Like Ava Gardner
Her ‘Liberated’ Life Recalls A Mexico Long Since Gone
A few weeks before my grandmother died, a hawk appeared at my window. It came in the form of a shadow that swept across the patio. The figure then sat on the outdoor dining chair. It took me a few seconds to realize it was not a crow—its talons and beak were too enormous. And then my eyes took in the beauty of its feathers, a pattern of white dots, and a red tipped-tail. We stared at each other for several seconds, and then the hawk flew away. A day …
