My grandmother was a true classic.

She didn’t want to be called Grandma. Her name was Barbara, but I couldn’t pronounce it properly as a child. So, she became “Baba.” She died when I was very little so I never got to know her as well as I would have wished. But my Mom shares with me the memory of Baba taking her and her sister to San Francisco for the day. In the early 1950’s, the city was a much fancier place, so they would get dressed up in their nicest clothes and take the F train across the single-story Bay Bridge from Berkeley, where they lived.

They would go shopping at Macy’s and get ice cream sundays at Bloom’s in the basement.

After exploring the city, they would finish their day at the Top of the Mark with a dinner overlooking the entire city.

This simple story means so much to me because San Francisco will always have a piece of my heart. I lived there for five years and I consider it my second home. There’s a piece of Baba there too, and a piece of our family legacy. ~ shared by @sarah_inpursuit