Waking up at my grandparents home to the smell of grits, red hot links, scrambled eggs, sausage patties, biscuits with homemade jelly preservatives, and black coffee without a care in the world. 8 in the morning scaling fish, washing collard greens in the sink, and cracking pecans at the kitchen table with my grandma’s favorite soap opera playing on the tv. The life of a little black girl growing up in the south. I yearn for my childhood during times like this.