Alice was my grandmother.  I would like to tell you that our story began at the time of my birth.  Well, perhaps, it did.  I was told that Alice came to the hospital to see her new granddaughter.  Many years would go by until we met again.  Why, you might ask?  I do not know why.  Imagine finding your grandmother in a mall.  That’s how I found, Alice.  Before I tell you about this chance encounter let me share this with you.  I recall a time, long ago.  A relative felt that it was high time that Alice met her growing granddaughter and drove me to Alice’s house.  Knocking on the door proved futile.  Alice was not coming out to greet us.  This is what I saw from the vantage point of the car window; a curtain in the attic  pulled slightly aside.  Alice.  I could not comprehend why a grandmother would not want to know her granddaughter.  I wanted her.  The mall?  Years later, walking through the mall I saw her with my grandfather.  I went to her and introduced myself.  Alice was noticeably flustered, yet kind.  I told her that I was driving now and would come to her.  That was how I came to know Alice, my grandmother.  I am now a grandmother and I find it incomprehensible that Alice let the years slip away.  There is nothing that could keep me from time spent with my granddaughter.  Why did Alice act this way, you ask?  I have no clue.  I do know that Alice loved me.  I write this to enlighten others.  If you are an Alice, pick up the phone, write a letter, find your grandchild.  If you are the grandchild, go and find your Alice.  Tell her that you love her.  Make up for lost time.