39x39 Oil on panel ©2006 A Back Room in the Castle By the time I knew my grandmother, the skin was loose on the backs of her hands. I could pull it across to one side and tighten it, pressing flat the protruding veins. I could press lingering flat spots into her fingertips. In old age, she was still capable of working my childhood’s miracles. She reupholstered furniture, sewed clothing, and baked strudels (rolling flat the huge dough ball to cover the entire kitchen table’s top). I can still recall the coolness of her palm and fingers when I held them to my face. Now, her hands are still. It’s been forty years since my grandmother passed away. Our cat joined her soon after finishing this painting.