I can still hear it now...the 1940s big band music that was always playing in my grandmother’s kitchen. Like something out of a movie, she was the patriarch of the family, having devoted every moment of every day to her family first. When you were in her home, you wanted for nothing. Each end table had a small bowl of spice drops and one of chocolates; there always seemed to be tea and coffee made, not to mention a piece of cake or biscotti to accompany it. What’s more, she never sat down when the family dinner was served. Instead she would continue to usher in plate after plate of food to the dining room table, until finally my grandfather or father would holler for her to sit down before everything got cold. Through it all, the music played.
