Virginia was my great-aunt, the sister of my grandmother, Betty Wilson Nelson. In November, 2007, Virginia and Jack made the trip all the way from the Carolinas to Georgetown, Kentucky, to attend the baptism of my nearly one-year-old daughter, Daisy. Jack brought some Carolina barbecue in a cooler. Virginia and Betty joined me to prepare a baptismal luncheon at our small house for around forty people—furniture pushed to the walls, chairs everywhere, food and drink filling the fridge and covering the surfaces. Virginia and Betty were in their element. I remember how kind Virginia was, so interested in baby, so efficiently helpful.