When I was 8 years old, my paternal grandmother moved in with our family. My mother, who lost her mom when she was 18, was very close to her mother-in-law. My father was overseas at the end of World War II when my older brother was born. My mother was 21-years-old, with a newborn, and moved in with my grandmother. Living in a multi-generational family wasn't new to her.
I loved having my grandmother live with us. My mom worked full time and so my grandma took up the slack. In those days, I came home for lunch. I remember steaming bowls of chicken soup waiting for me. When I came... Read More