When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.—Psalm 94:19 (NIV)

Homebound for more than a year, my grandmother missed things from her normal life like doing her own grocery shopping and eating out. Different family members checked on her during the day, but nights were hard for her, often long and lonely. But then Grannie and I found a way to have an occasional evening out at home. It always began when she called me. “Another Elvis Presley movie tonight at eleven o’clock!” she’d practically sing into the phone. (We were very distant cousins of Elvis. We had none of his money and not an ounce of his talent, but I’m quite certain we were his biggest fans.) I’d quickly gather my nightgown and a change of clothes and head to Grannie’s house to spend the night—a slumber party of sorts.  

Just before the movie started, she’d always pour a glass of chocolate milk for me, then stir crumbled saltine crackers into a glass of buttermilk for herself. At some point later, during a commercial break, we would have melted cheese. I know that all sounds strange, but it was our thing. I sang along with Elvis while my grandmother swayed to the music in her rocker. The best part? For those few hours, she forgot she was stuck at home.