i am one of twenty seven or so grandchildren. at that point, who really counts. nanny and poppy, my dad's parents. parents to five boys. lived in hollywood, back when hollywood was fantastic. nanny was a seamstress at the studios. poppy owned a gas station. the kind of gas station where they knew your name and took care of you; not where you slid money behind a plexiglass wall without making eye contact.
she used to slide me turkey cracklings under the table with a 'shh' and a smile. i always felt like her favorite. i think we all felt that way. because this was what she did.
she knew how to love. how to live.
i hope that when i die, i am able to leave my family members with the same kind of lingering smile that happens when someone brings up her name.