My grandmother, Nanny, died when I was 5, but I loved her with all my young heart. Even as a kindergartener, I could tell she was a gentle, kind, sweet, loving soul.

Since she died, I’ve talked to her in my head every so often, but she’s never visited me in my dreams. So, imagine my surprise when I wake up from a dream at four this morning with Nanny speaking urgently to me: “It’s behind the backyard at 525 Cramston. Go!”  Continue reading →