Recently I was taken back to playing Canasta with my beloved grandmother. Often we would play well into the night. I remember one night playing so long that we literally watched a lima bean sprout grow that we had planted in a Dixie cup.
I would often win. No, I would often trounce her, laughing with glee at having done it. Now I know she let me. The joy I brought through laughter was the reason she would laugh, too.
It is something we do as grandparents.
Missing mine, but, grateful I am one.