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I take her hand and we walk to the kitchen. Unlike her apartment, I kept the original structure of Grandma’s house when I renovated it two years ago. The kitchen is spacious, with honey-colored granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and a large island that doubles as a kitchen table. It opens into the dining room.

Music is playing softly in the background.

“What do you like to listen to?”

“I love classic rock. Aerosmith, Pink Floyd, Queen.”

“I do too. I always have music playing when I cook.”

“You like to cook?”

“Yes. And I can bake too.”

“You can cook and bake?” she asks, incredulous.

“Yes. And I made dinner for you.”

She makes me laugh.

“How did you learn?”

“We had a cook growing up. My brother and I spent most of our afternoons after school doing homework at the kitchen table and watching Mary cook and bake. She’d make us a fresh batch of cookies every day. I guess I watched her enough over the years and picked up a thing or two.”

What I don’t tell her is that Mary is the closest thing we had to a mother. And we stayed in that kitchen long after homework was done.

“That explains your cookie addiction.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t,” she says with a laugh.

“We have about an hour. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just water is fine.”

I get us both a glass of water.

“Tell me more about your family. What are they like?”

“Mom and Dad are so unlike any other parents I’ve ever met, especially Mom. If you think River has no filter, wait until you meet my mother.”

She takes a sip of her water.

“Our parents never judged or questioned us. My parents guided but never pushed. For starters, they never enforced any kind of punishments on us or forced us to do anything. Not even homework. If we decided that we didn’t want to do homework, then it was up to us to tell the teacher at school, and we quickly learned that not doing it at home meant losing recess and doing it at school, anyway.”

“They taught you responsibility by allowing you to be responsible for your choices.”

“Yes. And consequences. Our parents explained that for every action or lack thereof, for every choice we made, there would be consequences. They didn’t leave us to fend for ourselves or allow us to do anything that would put us in danger. But they gave us the freedom to make our own choices to the measure we could handle them and let us deal with the consequences of those choices.”

“So, you didn’t so much learn from their telling you, but from your own experiences.”

“Exactly. Nothing teaches a kid that eating half of a chocolate cake in one sitting is a bad idea like actually doing it and dealing with the stomachache that’s sure to follow. Let’s just say River and I never did that again.”

Her words radiate love, and it makes me want to kiss her and capture it with my lips.

“They were preparing us to be independent, to think for ourselves, and to blaze our own path. That’s Mom’s favorite thing to tell us,‘There is only one person who can live your life: You. So you may as well do what makes you happy. Create your own path. Leave your mark in the world. Make it something you’re proud of.’”

“I like that.”