A lot of my memories of my grandmother are from the annual trips my mom and sister and I would take to Rye Brook when I was growing up. I remember the strawberry cookie jar, and little boxes of cereal, and trips to "the City." But some of my favorite memories were after I moved to the east coast for college. I'd take a train from Boston to New York to visit Sydney every couple of months. It was the first time in my life I was able to spend time with her alone. We had long conversations sitting at the dining room table - we would talk about my classes, and politics, and traveling, and she told me great stories about her life. Sometimes we'd bake a pie. I love that so many of my memories are of that house being full of people, cooking and laughing and talking (often in puns). But I also love thinking about the quiet times, when it was just me and her having a cup of tea.