"You take the coffee grounds and mix them with the raisins," she yelled to me. As my eyes moved from person to person throughout the room, that little voice in my head keeps saying over and over again, what is she talking about?

"What did you say gram?" I asked again.
"You take the coffee grounds and mix them with the raisins," she yelled one more time.
I looked at her with my eyebrows almost touching my hairline. "Mom, I think it's time."
"I think you're right honey," she said with a grimace.

*  *  *

It was about eight o'clock on a Sunday morning. The sun was blazing on the concrete as it is reflecting back at my hazel eyes. The sky was stunning. Beautiful pink and purple sunset. Reflecting the colors of the rainbow through the window onto the tile floor of the kitchen. The banging of the pots and pans, cabinet doors slamming, I knew something was being made. The garlic smell lingering throughout the house and the sound of the sizzling and snapping of the oil in the pan put a smile on my face from ear to ear.

As I get up off the couch and walk towards the kitchen I see my grandma making pasta and rolling meatballs. "You making that for lunch gram?"
"Yes I am Trinket, it'll be ready soon," she said.
"You need any help?" I asked
"No I think I'm okay for now. I'll let you know though," she mumbled.
"Alright, I'll be in the living room watching tv just give me a holler if you need anything," I responded.
Only a few seconds after sitting on the couch the sound of the glass plates hitting each other and getting put on the wooden table with napkins and silverware was coming from the kitchen. Which then I knew it was lunch time.
"TRINKET, LUNCH IS READY," she yelled.

As I walk into the kitchen I see her putting the pasta with the bright red sauce into my bowl with two huge meatballs. My mouth started to water like Niagara Falls. As I twirl the pasta onto my fork the slippery noise as it hits the other pasta in the bowl, I move it closer and closer to my mouth. The sweet taste of the sauce was scrumptious as it swished back and forth throughout my mouth and in between my teeth. The meatballs were amazing. With the meatball being the size of my fist, I had to break it up into little pieces. When I did the moisture just sprinkled out into the bowl of pasta.

“Nothing could ever be better than your pasta with the sauce gram,” I said.
“Awh thank you so much sweetheart, it means so much to me,” she answered.
“I can’t wait till next sunday to eat your pasta again!” I said with excitement.

*  *  *

I finally realized that we were helping my grandma for the better and what we did was a good idea when we finally did it.

"Nothing will ever be the same without grandma making her sauce anymore," I said to my mom.
"I know but I have her recipe so I can just make it whenever," she said.
I moved up from my chair. "Yeah but it still won't be the same, it will still taste a little different, just because she's not making it."

My mom grabbed her coat, purse, and keys. "I'll try my best to make it the exact same. But I'm not making any promises."

Today, my grandma is in a nursing home and she has dementia. She is that funny person though. She acts crazy all the time, she always has a smile on her face that goes from ear to ear. She makes me laugh so hard to the point where my stomach starts to hurt, and I have tears running down my face. Seeing that she has dementia, it's rare for her to remember something that happen recently. She mostly remembers things that have happen in her younger life. She always talks about how her cousins, aunts and uncles are still alive, but in reality they have been dead for so many years now. I ask her questions all the time and she never gives me a legitimate answer.

Yesterday, I was pushing her in her wheelchair. “Gram what’d you do today?”

“I went to the grocery store, and bought some groceries for the house,” she whispered.
“Oh did you get the ingredients to make your sauce?” I asked.
She stood up and walked to the big brown comfy chair. “Of course I did, that’s the first thing I’m making after I watch my show.”

“Okay, great I can’t wait to eat it. But gram I just have one quick question about your sauce and meatballs,” I teased.
She looked at me with that nervous look in her eyes. “What is it?”
I leaned over my chair towards her. “How do you make your meatballs?”
“You take the coffee grounds and mix them with the raisins,” she explained.
That’s how you make grandma's meatballs!