Every Christmas, from the day I was born, my grandma has sewn a pair of pajamas for me and for every one of my cousins and sibling. It’s our tradition, our little piece of handmade love. But the tradition ends on your 21st birthday. So when these Northern Lights PJ pants arrived, beautifully tied to where I am in life now, studying up north and falling in love with the sky, I teared up. They’re the last pair of Grammy Jammies I’ll ever get, making them both magical and bittersweet. They feel like a hug from her, stitched into fabric.