The pandemic was a strange era for everyone. Most people felt disconnected from their family and friends. However, for my family, it offered a chance to reconnect. Before the world went into quarantine, we didn't talk much, mostly because we were spread across different states. However, the isolation actually offered us a rare opportunity to call more often and connect more deeply. This was especially true for my relationship with my great-grandmother, Nonny. At first, it was frustrating. Our video calls never seemed to work quite right; the audio was often crackly or quiet, and the computer was always at the wrong angle, usually giving us a clear view of nothing but her forehead. To fix this, my mom found a device that made calling easier for her. The days of only seeing her forehead were gone! After that, Nonny and I talked constantly, playing endless games of Boggle while she shared stories and vivid details from her childhood. One of my favorite stories was about Christmas. Most years, Nonny and her eight siblings didn’t have much. On Christmas Eve, the kids would scramble for my great-great-grandfather’s sock drawer, each trying to snag the largest one to use as a stocking. By morning, those socks would be filled with just a handful of nuts, dried berries, and a single orange. However, one year in particular, when she was still the youngest and the only girl. On Christmas Eve, there was a knock at the door. When her parents opened the door, several Salvation Army workers stood on their doorstep, their arms filled with three baskets overflowing with food, clothes, and toys. Resting right on top was a beautiful doll. When my Nonny saw that doll, she knew she wanted it. So when her parents, being very proud, initially tried to refuse the gift, well, she and her siblings were disappointed. Luckily, the visitors were adamant and left the baskets on their doorstep. That was the year Nonny got her doll. A common theme in her stories was that even when they did not have a lot of money, they were actually rich. They had chickens, a pig every year, and everything they truly needed. Whenever they had a little extra, they always gave thanks. They were always alright, she told me, because they had each other. I often carry her words of encouragement with me now because she was one of the few family members who supported us in moving off-grid to build a farm. Unfortunately, she departed this life before we fully moved, but her passing made me realize how important she was to me and how valuable her advice was. I am even more grateful for the time I spent with her. I will always treasure those memories and the stories she told me.