On Sept. 15, my grandmother, Lorraine Gersky Wheless, passed away at the age of 94.

One of my deepest-held beliefs is that we all have a tale to share with the world about our unique and important role in it. I always thought that my grandmother had several. Family lore has it that the devoutly Catholic Lorraine was raised from childhood in a rowdy Depression-era bar in Chicago’s historic Polish quarter. Later in life, she headed overseas in 1955 to be part of the Military Advisory Assistance Group Belgium-Luxembourg. There, she met and married my grandfather, Harvey. Their first child, my father, Glen, was born in Belgium two years after her arrival.