A. Never trust a sword to a man who can't dance
A. My grandparents. We moved around so much I didn't ever know them. I'd ask my father's father to explain what courage is. He was a war hero, but a modest man. I'd ask my mother's father how he came to survive the sinking of the Lusitania and why he taught his daughter (my mother) to dismantle an engine in 1920's London when she was a teenager. What was that about? I'd ask my father's mother to talk about physical beauty - and its loss - and what it was like to be a strong personality when women weren't supposed to be strong. And I'd want my mother's mother to tell me about my mother when she was a little girl. And that is because my mother had a remarkable life. I want to know how she was equipped to face some of the things she had to endure.
A. Keeping my head, sometimes, when all around were losing theirs and blaming it on me (thank you Rudyard.) That, and a little thing called Motherhood.
A. Courage. I aspire to it. Compassion. Because I find that hard sometimes. Timing. I so often get it wrong.
A. Which world?