I got home from work yesterday and went to check my mailbox for junk mail and magazines as usual. Unlocking the bronze box, inside was a lonely pink envelope from my grandmother. I grabbed the card, closed the box, unlocked the door to my apartment, dropped my belongs down in my closet, and hoped up on my desk, ready to open my card.

I sliced open the envelope and found a card covered with Easter eggs. My grandmother sends cards for every holiday; Valentines, St. Patrick's, Earth day, you name it — she sends it. But unlike all the others, when I opened the card a photocopied slip of paper and a $50 dollar check slid out.

I looked to the check memo for a hint about why my grandmother was sending me money, and in the small space read the words "Easter bonnet." But why, I thought. You see, as a child my grandfather annually bought my two sisters and myself Easter bonnets. Every year it was some what of an exciting event to see what fabulous hat we would be wearing to the Easter egg hunt. But we hadn't worn an Easter bonnet in years, so what was with the money for an Easter bonnet? The photocopied paper provided the answer to my question.

My grandfather past away last January and in his will he specified that every year each of us, the grand daugthers, were to receive $50 dollars for the "purpose of defraying the cost of purchasing an Easter bonnet." My grandfather, an 89 year old man who fought in WWII, lived through the depression, saw nearly all the world, tolerated my grandmothers nagging, and spent over the last decade of his life confined to a wheelchair, he found it so important that I be able to purchase an Easter bonnet, that he put it in Section 3.04 of his will. I grin.

My grandfather may have been a hard-ass, but I guess every man has his soft side.