My grandmother, who I knew as Mimi, was a force. She had a strength of conviction that was uncompromising in its certainty, a purpose. At 98 she read the paper cover to cover each day and was on top of all news; particularly her local news. Golf was like a religion to her, and she watched matches on television reminiscing about all the great competitions and players. Each day followed a structure and routine and, until just before she died, she still made her grocery list, planned her meals, kept her home. Her independence was an inspiration, and I see the fire of it still burn in my mother and me. This photograph is one of my first 'best photos,' taken swiftly, and without overthinking, at the precise moment, at the ripe age of 97, she had the first taste of her first Cosmopolitan. In her last year, her 98th year, she reconnected me with my center when I had lost my way. It was a gift I didn’t expect and one I think of each year as I begin baking holiday cookies from her recipes. There are so many memories tied up in this one photograph for me and for the others who came to love her too.