When growing up as a young kid I remember every year we would make the journey to my Grandparent's house in Virginia. We would ride in the old station wagon for days to get there, it was pretty uncomfortable with all six of us piled in that old car. I can still remember how excited I would be to finally pull into their driveway, it was pretty much the only time of the year I got to see my Grandparents. Their house was always neat and clean and I remember being somewhat scared and excited at the same time, we always had to be on our best behavior while we stayed there. These were the only times I had to really get to know my Grandmother and Grandfather. We lived so far away that they were never part of my day to day life, and I always wanted to know more about them. Sometimes I wondered how often they thought about me, because I always thought about them. I thought about how much they cared about me, if I was as important to them as they were to me, and how I always wanted to grow u...
Good God, Orwell was right