There is a magical force that brings us together. Does it have anything to do with that ever-ready lap and huge enfolding arms? Is it the scent of flour or the sweetness of the plums she turns into jam? Or could the roses and crocheted squares that bloom in her presence have something to do with it? Maybe it’s the mysterious Hebrew writing on those newspapers she reads. All I know is that no space or time can threaten our bond.

I hear a whispered question from behind my ear asking that delicious question: “Do you want to take a nap with Grandma?”. I am linked to her by an invisible rainbow’d chain and we glide, one behind the other, to the bedroom. She closes the door softly behind us. We are alone together. I breath in her powdered sugar fragrance as it soothes me, calms me.

She sits on the bed, pivots, and up come those rolling pin legs. She rolls over and settles under the comforter made of down. At the same time, from my side, I take a giant step and grasp enough of the mattress to climb up so I can settle inside her huge hug.

Her breathing changes, she is asleep. It seems like only minutes have passed when I find myself jolting from my own nap. I have way too much energy for me to control. Grandma is still asleep and peaceful, but I have to get down. I am so high up and don’t want to wake her so I begin a series of slow-motioned movements to get me back on the floor.  OK, I am at the edge of the mountainous bed. I take a deep breath, sit up, slide to the edge and dropping soundlessly on tip toes. I reach way up to turn the knob, pull the door slowly to open and then press it to close behind me.  I hear the door click behind me.  The empty hallway before me feels like a tunnel.  I make my way as an explorer into the unknown.

There will be many next-times for that luscious and familiar feeling. I always forget how shocking it will be to awaken to such a height.