The calls to my grandmother (and the certainty that she speaks my language)

I’ve been calling my grandma more often.  She’s always lived far away. But I never called.  Maybe because something in me always fed the hope that at the end of the year we’d see each other. And then I could give her the tightest hugs and lay my head on her lap while she strokedContinue reading “The calls to my grandmother (and the certainty that she speaks my language)”