I am sitting in the train from Potsdam to Berlin and just remembered this story from my third birthday.
I got up as usual and found my grandpa in the kitchen, but no breakfast there. I asked him: where is grandma? And he said that it was my birthday and that grandma went up all the way over the top of the hill to the other village to get me Lino Lada (a chocolate nut spread for your bread). And I felt so happy, so impressed, especially when she got back and took out the glass of Lino Lada.
This is how grandpa showed me, that grandma loved me. She was doing something beyond her comfort zone to make me happy on my birthday. Before that, I didn’t know that she loved me. It was just a normal thing that we lived together.