How living so far from my roots actually makes me feel closer
It was the first day of spring and Radek’s svátek (name day) when I got the call from my mom that my 93-year-old grandmother was rapidly declining. Our family was visiting the hunting castle Křivoklát about an hour’s drive from Prague. The skies had just darkened to release a light drizzle. While Radek and the children waited out the rain in the car, Mom brought me up to date. After a year of increasing difficulties, my grandmother had now stopped eating or drinking. The hospice doctors told my family that it could be hours or a day or two.