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My Grandpa Johnson gave the best presents. He adored all five of his granddaughters, and we knew it. The little wooden jewelry box with the elegant ballerina that popped up to dance to "Fly Me to the Moon" was one of my favorite gifts, not because I was a girlie girl who loved jewels and ballet, but because as soon as I was alone with the box I ripped the dancer from her pedestal to get to the musical mechanism and learn how the music magically played.

A gold cylinder with pointy knobs, like braille, revolved underneath a golden comb with skinny teeth. As the cylinder looped around and around the teeth plunked and pinged a tinny rendition of Sinatra's hit. It was endlessly fascinating. So fascinating that eventually the ballerina was lost but I didn't care. I just watched the cylinder loop and listened to the teeth ping.

Grandpa has been gone for twenty years, but whenever I hear "Fly Me to the Moon" I remember how much he loved me and I feel his presence.…

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