My grandma is celebrating her 99^th birthday today. I never knew my dad’s dad, as he died before I was born. My dad’s mom, however, has always been there. When I was nine or so, she moved into the house next to us. Her kitchen was always a gathering point. We played cards at the kitchen table, trying to get my uncle to laugh his laugh. My grandmother could whip up a beef roast dinner from nowhere. As kids (a word not defined by age), it was the candy drawer in the kitchen that we coveted. When we’d walk through the back door, she’d pop up from her chair in the living room to greet us. We’d make a beeline for the candy drawer.

When my grandmother moved into a nursing home a few years ago, my brother took the candy drawer. I’m not talking about the candy; he took the actual drawer. Continue reading →