My grandmother passed away on Sunday July 30. She was 82. My grandmother’s death is the end of an era, the end of the Sunday Dinners. We have not gotten together regularly on Sundays for dinner since I was about 7, when we moved from New York to Illinois. But it is a significant part of my life -- it is a huge part of my memories of my childhood. My grandmother’s dying reminded me of what a great gift those regular family gatherings were in my and my brother’s lives. A gift my younger sisters do not know and my son’s probably cannot even wrap their minds around.

My childhood was filled with our extended family getting together each weekend for family dinners. Perhaps it was not every weekend, but that is how I remember it.

My grandparents came from Czechoslovakia and met the day after my Grandfather arrived in the U.S.; she was 12 and he was 15. They were together since then. He fought in the war, they raised a family and together they owned restaurants in New York. At the age of five I worked as a waitress at "Melody", the restaurant I remember best. I really thought I worked there, and I believed people really thought I was a real waitress. (I love how the child’s mind works.) My grandmother’s sister, Aunt Helen, and her husband, Uncle John, owned a jewelry store in Babylon, New York. I worked there too. These places hold some of my fondest memories of my childhood. My Uncle John passed away a few years ago. The wonderful reminiscing we've enjoyed with the deaths of these two important family members, drives home the reality that the family Sunday dinners are not a large part of American culture anymore.

Today, we eat dinner over the sink, at the kitchen counter or grab fast food on our way from one activity to the other. It is hard to keep up with the pace of our lives. I wonder what childhood memories my children are going to have. For me they are of peace and family and sitting around a table eating, laughing and talking.

My Grandmother taught me to work hard but she also taught me to play and to enjoy life. Our family is very close, we travel together, vacation together and my sisters and I golf together each week. But I do not sit down and eat dinner together at the kitchen table with my sons every night. My family does not get together just for Sunday dinner anymore. My Grandmother taught me to treasure family; to make time for family. So in her honor, I intend to make an effort to make that value more a part of my sons’ lives. We need to sit down to eat our dinner together as a family and turn off the noise so we can talk. The family Sunday dinners - we need to do that too - at least once a month. We need to make time for that.

To Mary Balis Salajka, my beloved Grandmother: you were a matriarch in every sense of the word. Together you and Grandpa lived the American dream. You were a strong woman and a great role model and you will be truly missed. I am grateful that you were such a huge part of my life. You are an amazing gift to us all. Your love is in each stitch of the blankets you made which my children sleep with each night and your spirit lives on in each of us. Thank you Grandma and here's to you and a life well lived!

One day, a friend of mine called me, angry that he missed his train. He was sitting on the next train but was now going to be an hour late starting his day. I told him “play the game.” “Game, what game, did you hear me, I missed the train,” he said. “Look for the reason you missed the train, it will reveal itself to you.” “Okay,” he laughed, mocking me as he hung up the phone.

About an hour and a half later this friend called me again. “I ran into a friend from college who I have not seen in years,” he said before I even had a chance to say hello. “Really,” I said, smiling that the reason he missed the train was revealed so quickly and in such an obvious way. “Yes,” he continued “what is more important is I realized that maybe I would have run into this friend whether I was playing your little game or not. Without playing the game, I probably would have had the same friendly chat with him but I would have gone right back to being angry about missing the train. Or, maybe, I would not have been paying attention because I was angry and I would not have noticed this friend at all and walked right past him. I would have missed a fun opportunity."

Click - the pieces snapped into place.

Looking for the reasons and learning the lessons when things don’t go our way is a fun and rewarding way to live. The simple act of looking to find how the pieces click together eliminates the frustration and anger we sometimes feel when unexpected events disrupt our lives. It helps us see that our lives bring us where we need to be whether we agree with where we are or with where we are going at that particular time.

Sometimes the reasons or the lessons are not so obvious, and sometimes they are not revealed to us for a long time. But they are never revealed if we are not open or looking to find them.

Do not collect all your pieces and assemble them at the end of your life. Play the game and put the pieces of your life together as you live it.