I heard something in the car this morning… When I turned around to view my child, it brought me back to the past with a single sentence: she was no longer within reach. I traveled far… When did time pass, and we become adults with uninteresting priorities? We fight every day for something we don’t even know we want…
When, in fact, grandma’s house is all that is required for happiness.

Grandma’s place is where the clock’s hands relax and the minutes arrive slowly. Grandma’s house is where simple pasta and homemade bread appear to have varied flavors, which are excellent… Grandma’s place is where an innocent afternoon might turn into an eternity of games and illusions. Grandma’s house has cupboards that hide old garments and intriguing things.

Grandma’s house is where unopened boxes become chests of hidden treasures, waiting to be discovered. Toys at Grandma’s house are rarely ready; instead, they are invented on the spot. Grandma’s house is a place where everything is possible, magic happens, and there are no concerns. Grandma’s house has the remnants of our parents’ childhood and the beginning of our life.

On the interior, Grandma’s house is our most cherished address, where anything is permitted. That luxury no longer belongs to me; unfortunately, it will only live in my recollections. Nonetheless, if I could place an order now, any order in the world, I would do the same thing… “Can I sleep at Grandma’s tonight?”