Christmas always had a sort of repetition that bordered on reverent tradition. Every trip to Grandma’s on Christmas Day included a box with new pajamas.

Whether I was 7 or 17, Grandma was always there to oversee the greatest of winter traditions; the snow day.

Grandma created an unparalleled familial ambiance on Thanksgiving. She drew up plans and executed them to perfection.

From the bath I begged to see the witch. The witch obliged.

Grandma was the resident contrarian. She must have known, and perhaps feared, that one of her grandchildren would inherit this trait. One day I took a swing at the champ.

An introduction to my Grandma, the inspiration for many of the stories on this page.