My grandma — my dad’s mom — was a very special lady. I had always prayed she would live to see me married and having kids; I was born on her birthday, plus I was her first granddaughter, so I feel like we’ve always shared a special bond. I have so many fond memories of playing at her house; rifling through her jewelry drawers, playing with dolls, pretending to be a dog under the table while she fed me cheese squares, feeding the stray animals that came to her back door… so many memories. She turned 91 years old this year. To me, grandma Helen seemed like someone who would…