My grandfather would tell me things like, "The troopers won't mind if you are going over the speed limit in order to pass someone." And some good advice, too, like "Don't cut in front of someone unless you can see both of their headlights in your rear view window." When we practiced driving on a 100-degree day on a freshly-cut wheat field, I thought my mother was going to have a heart attack. "You could have burnt up the entire field!"

My grandmother worked in a grocery store in Courtland part of the time my sister and I were growing up. She was the one who cut meat for the customers. I remember being fascinated by the huge, gleaming meat cutting machine, that was always spotless. She butchered her own chickens, too, a gruesome task but my sister and I could somehow never stop watching.

My grandparents came to my track meets and were always supportive of my activities. When I turned 16, my grandfather wanted to buy me a car, but my dad said no. I was really disappointed but it was probably a good decision. My dad bought me a car when I graduated from high school, and that was soon enough.

At my grandmother's funeral, some cousins sent a beautiful basket overflowing with plants, including three hyacinths that filled the church with a wonderful scent. My grandmother and I shared a love of plants, and I am fortunate to have her green thumb. I brought the basket home and transplanted most of the plants into larger containers. The hyacinths died and I put the basket in my potting area under my back porch. There it stayed through the hot, dry summer until the frigid weather of mid-December, when I went to look for something and noticed green shoots showing above the dirt. Were the hyacinths waking up? They grow from bulbs, but I never expected another round of beautiful blooms and fragrances. I brought the basket inside and sure enough, in a few weeks our house was smelling wonderful. My grandmother would have loved it.