This is my grandmother, Dorothy Fischer, in 1958. She was 41, the age I am now.
I knew her a little when I was growing up, but later, when I was in my 20s and she was in her 80s, she became my very best friend.
I often spent weekends with her in Washington, D.C., where she lived for her whole adult life. She took me to movies, art museums, and wine bars. We talked about books, family, and love.
She flourished into her 90s and died in 2011, when she was 94 and I was 36.
I miss her so much every day.