My Grandma

My Grandma Lottie was one of my best friends. It's as simple as that. Many of my family memories are very tied to her.

I remember at her old apartment, one time climbing through this set of bars that ran from the living room to the dining room.

I remember her saying to me not to get in trouble or she'd flip me inside out and zip me up.

I remember her singing me all of her Yiddish songs, including the one that always made me look at Macy's a different way.

As I grew up, my brothers and I would spend nights at her apartment. She would always sleep on the couch in the other room so that we'd have the comfort of the bed. We'd go over to her house and she'd make us golden lokshen, salad and a chuck roast - of course she'd constantly be in the kitchen, even when we begged her to come out and eat with us so her food wouldn't get cold! That's just who she was - for the most important people in her life, she wanted everything for them first.

Food is so tied into the way I remember my grandmother - especially her baking. When I was very young, she'd make me these chocolate cookies with green and pink marshmallows in them - they were perfect. Mandel breads, ruggalah, sugar cookies, she did it all. However, none of those even came close to her challahs. It is still my favorite food and she's the reason for it. She always said she didn't have a recipe for it and that's the truth. I was so proud when I got to take her challah in on cultural days at school. Other classmates would end the day jealous that they didn't get to eat it all the time.

As I got older, my grandmother and I developed a special friendship. Although, at times, I let my youth get the better of me. On Friday nights in high school, I was regularly responsible for getting my grandma home. It was special one on one time that I didn't always take advantage of - sometimes even getting upset that I wasn't able to rush off with friends. However, I look back on those times and realize how lucky I was to be able to share that time with her.

In recent years, it's been very tough for my grandmother. And so, I choose to remember her in the way that will always warm my heart and inspire my memories. The ones where I imagine her singing show tunes with her family, going out with Aunt Babe to dance the night away in Miami, her coming home to my grandfather, raising my dad to be the amazing fella he is today, and mostly for being the wonderful Yiddishe mama I always knew.

I'll miss her desperately - it crushes me that I couldn't be at the funeral, but I know she wanted me to have my adventures in life.

A part of me is always built from her. A part that makes me and our family strong.

Yingalah #3, Mikey, Mikaluvichka