For the longest time in America, there was the one-drop rule. If you had one ancestor of sub-Saharan African ancestry you were Black. That thought persists to this day.

Because my mother and I looked so different physically — I inherited my father’s German-Irish skin and blonde hair — when we were in public, people would try to figure out who and what we were to each other.

My mother would have named me Kitt whether I was a boy or a girl, and often introduced us to people, saying, “I’m Eartha and she’s Kitt,” as if I completed her. And, in some ways, I guess I did. Her mother had died when she was very young. She didn’t know who her father was and was disconnected from any of her relatives, so I really was her only family. And she clung to me with an intensely deep, unconditional love. I, in turn, whether I knew it or not, gave her roots and grounded her.

Mother’s Day symbolized to her that there is nothing more important on this planet than being a good mother.

My mother would say to me, “When I’m gone, do not throw anything away — use it.” In going through my mother’s belongings, I unearthed a treasure trove of handwritten thoughts we affectionately refer to as “Kitt-isms.” Colorful, wise, musings such as “What I do today is how I am interpreted tomorrow,”

“When life becomes confused, step aside and think,” and “How some people can get bored bewilders me.” I cherish these precious papers and in using her handwritten words in a new collection of eco-friendly products I’ve created called Simply Eartha, it really feels like she has a hand in it.

Because my mother and I looked so different physically — I inherited my father’s German-Irish skin and blonde hair — when we were in public, people would try to figure out who and what we were to each other.

My mother would have named me Kitt whether I was a boy or a girl, and often introduced us to people, saying, “I’m Eartha and she’s Kitt,” as if I completed her. And, in some ways, I guess I did. Her mother had died when she was very young. She didn’t know who her father was and was disconnected from any of her relatives, so I really was her only family. And she clung to me with an intensely deep, unconditional love. I, in turn, whether I knew it or not, gave her roots and grounded her.

Mother’s Day symbolized to her that there is nothing more important on this planet than being a good mother.

My mother would say to me, “When I’m gone, do not throw anything away — use it.” In going through my mother’s belongings, I unearthed a treasure trove of handwritten thoughts we affectionately refer to as “Kitt-isms.” Colorful, wise, musings such as “What I do today is how I am interpreted tomorrow,”

“When life becomes confused, step aside and think,” and “How some people can get bored bewilders me.” I cherish these precious papers and in using her handwritten words in a new collection of eco-friendly products I’ve created called Simply Eartha, it really feels like she has a hand in it.

Eartha was petite and African American; Her daughter, Kitt, is obviously half African American as well, but her skin complexion, hair texture, and height takes after her father, John William McDonald, who is White (German/Irish). Her father was an associate of a real estate investment company and he and Eartha were married from 1960 to 1965.

Eartha was petite and African American; Her daughter, Kitt, is obviously half African American as well, but her skin complexion, hair texture, and height takes after her father, John William McDonald, who is White (German/Irish). Her father was an associate of a real estate investment company and he and Eartha were married from 1960 to 1965.