On Friday, my Grandma Freeman passed away. She was almost 90 years old and lived a long, full life. She was kind, loving, a hard worker, and fiercely loyal. She taught elementary school, and I've always loved the fact that both of my grandmas were teachers, and good ones at that. We joke in our family that teaching runs in our blood, and it's an honor to be able to carry on her legacy. For most of the years I was growing up, she lived in New York, in the small, small town of Hornell. My dad would take us on weekend trips to visit during the summers. In fact my first time driving on the highway with my learner's permit was on the way up to visit them one summer, and I remember proudly announcing that when we walked into the house. We would always start off our visits with a trip to the ONLY restaurant in town (Pizza Hut) and then stop by the ONLY grocery store in town (Wegman's) for ice cream to take home,...