For thirty breathless minutes, Josette recounted story after story about her grandmother. About how the Germans came... about all the hidden wine... the American GIs... her brother... her grandmother's long hair all the way down to her butt... her little black hat... her gorgeous blue eyes... her smile... her grandfather's shocked look on his face... all the chickens... going out to work the fields every morning...

She said... "I don't think I will ever forget this. Such good memory. Oh, God help me if I foget dis tank. God help me."

Then she paused. She had finished her story and we all sat in stillness. Her eyes gazed across the room, with a sublte flicker of light in them, so quick, so brief, as if her grandmother's beautiful face had just flashed before her. She looked down at her coffee. She added a dash more sugar and took her spoon to stir. Metal clinking against the cup, then three taps on its rim.

"You know something," She said. "I miss that lady so much."

Josette took a giant inhale, as if holding back waterfalls, before sipping her coffee.

"I know you do, Mom." Fif said.