to do. Some memories were better left alone.
When I was young, I accepted that explanation.
Children rarely question the parts of their families that adults have agreed not to discuss.
My grandmother, Eleanor, was warmer. She baked too many cookies, remembered everyone’s favorite foods, and could turn an ordinary Sunday dinner into a celebration.
But even she had certain subjects she wouldn’t touch.
One of them was the suit.
Thomas wore it to my parents’ wedding, my christening, his fortieth wedding anniversary, and my first school recital. It was
