My mother and her siblings have been going through the painful process of cleaning out my grandmother’s house. I’ve been in & out a few times. I took some things that have a lot of sentimental value to me—drawings by a much younger version of me; the postcard that I sent her from Kenya; and a tin of buttons that I was obsessed with as a little girl. The most exciting thing though, is my grandmother’s record player + records. I set it up today + started spinning. Louis Armstrong, Ray Anthony, Johnny Horton, The Dr. Zhivago + The Sound of Music soundtracks. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve listened to a record player. There is something so magical about it—the pops, the crackles, the scratchy beautiful music. I sat in our office today, listening to the records, and she was there with me.

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