My earliest vivid memory is of my grandma. My parents left me with her one night when I was perhaps only two years old, so that they could go out and do whatever it was they had to do. For some reason, on that particular evening, I was in a terrible mood, and I cried for my mom, as kids sometimes do. My grandmother, not being a woman who was bother by much, let me sit there and have a fit by the door. It must have gone for some minutes, because the neighbor lady who lived in the condo upstairs came down and knocked on the door to see if everything was alright. At that point my grandma looked at me and said, ok, you can go into my bedroom and continue to cry as much as you want, or you can stay out here, but you can't cry. Not wanting to have to be locked in a bedroom where no one could hear my protest, I chose to shut up. I think I remember it, because it was my first actual life lesson. Kids are sometimes a lot smarter than we give them credit for. They aren't always unreasonable. But that was my grandma, fair but firm. I recounted that story when I gave her eulogy, because it really affected me a lot. We all have a choice, even when we have to choose between two things that seem less than optimal.