Some moments fade into the background, but others carve themselves into our memory. They’re the “where were you when” kind of moments — the ones you can picture years later, down to the chair you sat in or the sound in the room. I remember being at my son’s baseball game in the summer of…

My grandma’s house always smelled like food — pies cooling on the counter, soup simmering on the stove, bread rising in the oven. She could feed an army, and somehow she never seemed tired of it. One of my favorite memories is sneaking bits of dough while she wasn’t looking, only to hear her laugh…