Years later, I found myself in my own kitchen, stirring caramel with music playing in the background. It reminded me of my grandmother's home when I was little. She always had records playing during the day instead of the television, and music seemed to fill the house.

There was something about that familiar combination of music, food, and home that brought me back to her.

My grandmother was a nurturing person. Even when life wasn't easy for her, she took care of the people she loved. She made sure there was food on the table, that her family was cared for, and that home felt like home.

She showed me that love doesn't always have to be something big or grand. Sometimes it's simply showing up, taking care of someone, and making sure they know they're loved.

A lot of that lives in me, too.