J. generally considered food nothing more that fuel necessary to maintain her physical activity, probably because her mother was not a good cook. Drop...ing her plate into the sink, M.J. hugged her mother, who worked hard at the grocery store and taking care of her and Gwen. Her mother, Annette, said, ‘I’m proud of you, M.J. Do you have homework? M.J. said, ‘Yes,’ and went up to her room and began to work. She was only a middling student, but worked hard in the time she had to keep her grades to. When we arrived and I parked the Jeep, she still had not said a word. She suddenly asked, “Gramps? Can we sit and talk a little bit?”I thought it was strange, she wanted to talk in the Jeep, sitting here in front of a motor coach with comfortable chairs and a sofa inside, but I answered, “Sure, Sweety, what’s on your mind?”She was looking down in her lap where her hands were fidgeting with her dress. “I, ah,” she haltingly started, “I was wondering if you could, we could, you know “do it”. More

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