My relationship with my father's mother began when I was fiveyears old. She lives in Pennsylvania, and my family wouldtake yearly trips to her home for Thanksgiving. My grandmotheris 83 years old, and in excellent health.

One specialability she has is driving fast. Most senior citizens arehorrible drivers; their speedometers can't seem to go higherthan 15 miles per hour. My grandmother pretty much breaks thesound barrier. I love her very much, not only because she'sfamily, but because she always lets me know she loves me backin some special way. She also often sends me novelty cards fordifferent occasions and holidays.

My grandmother'shouse is cold, lonely and sparse, yet it somehow welcomes uswhen we visit. She has lived alone for 14 years, ever since mygrandfather passed away. When I was very young, I appreciatedthese annual visits to her home more than I did recently.Eventually we stopped making the trip because the drive waslong and irritating.

One event that made me closer toMimi was when she stayed with me this past year while myfamily went on vacation. I unfortunately couldn't go becauseof my school activities. Mimi stayed with me for the week and,though not a lot happened, I grew closer to her. She taught mea new recipe she called "Orange Julius," and made her famouschicken noodle soup. Every day, when I came home from school,she would come outside to welcome me home. It was very sweetof her to treat me the way she did, and I'm glad she came forthose short seven days.

Mimi went home two daysafter my parents returned. Every time she leaves, there is asadness in my heart that wishes we didn't live so far apart.She still calls often, and I occasionally get to say a fewwords. I don't get to see my grandmother as much as I wouldlike, but I take what I can get.