This weekend I helped my darling grandmother celebrate her birthday.

She’s 80 years old. I can’t believe it. It doesn’t seem possible that my grandmother is aging. It seems like just yesterday that she was singing catchy little kid songs in the kitchen while she baked cinnamon rolls. She used to bake a separate batch for me without raisins. I’ve always hated raisins, yet my entire family loves them. Everyone forgets that I refuse to eat them, but not my grandmother. After all these years she still remembers. That tiny detail just shows how much she loves me.

Someday she’s not going to be here. What happens then? Will I be forced to eat cinnamon rolls with raisins because no one else remembers?