Last week my wife asked how my mother did get her nickname. I had never asked assuming it was a childhood thing. My mother, who is staring to forget things probably forgot her usual modesty:
The boy who took me out on my first date. First time someone looked at me and saw something beautiful, special?
How old were you?
Eighteen. He was twenty eight. He looked at me and said you look like a luz.
But, ma, how can it be? Oma also called you by this name. At eighteen she started to give you a nickname?
Yes, she liked the name also.
But how could it be? How did she know about it?
She was there with me on the date.
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