Today is the 28th anniversary of the death of Jean, the founder of Jean’s Place, a family restaurant and diner in Hoosick Fall’s, N.Y., now an important part of my life.

I took a moment this morning, to stand in silence and think of Jean, I am grateful for the restaurant she worked so hard to build.

It is touching to see the love that is passed along in this family, strong women, generation to generation. Kelly, who took over the restaurant from her mother, loved Jean dearly. Kelsie, next in line (right), loves her mother in much the same way.

This love is embedded in the very restaurant itself, in the paintings and slogans on the walls, in the food, and especially in the staff, which even makes outcasts like me feel as if I am a part of the family.

I wish.

But I can’t complain. I think we are part of the family, these people don’t know how o fake it.

I doubt that Kelly changed a single thing about Jean’s place after her mother died.

It is a place built on pride and hard labor, and great caring. Kelly took me by the hand recently and told me I really needed to try the whole belly clams she orders and serves once a month.

Kelly leans over to kiss about half of the people who come in to eat.

“They are wonderful, fresh and juicy,”  she said of her whole belly clams with great pride.”  I’m going to try some this weekend. Kelly is a truth-teller, as the Native Americans might say. If she says it’s good, it’s good.

At Jean’s, they not only love one another, but they also love what they cook and serve.

Places do have their own character, you can tell the minute you walk in if a place has heart and soul, or is just a business.

As Jean did before them, Kelly and Kelsie put their soul and heart into Jean’s place, I feel it the minute I open the door. Their blood and sweat are in the walls.

Maria and I shake our hands in wonder, and yes, some sadness when we see and hear about this kind of love in a family. Kelsie told me this was the anniversary of her grandmother’s death, she said she was one of the most wonderful woman she had known.

“So is my mother,” she said, “two wonderful people.” When Kelsie talked about how much she loved and admired her grandmother, and feels the same way about her mother, Maria teared up. I knew how she felt.

Maria and I were not blessed to have a relationship like that with our mothers or families,  but we can both see how important a gift that is in life.

(Eileen, a longtime blog reader, called Jean’s from California and bought a $100 gift certificate for me to use when I go to Jean’s for breakfast which I do as often as I can. Thanks, Eileen, I told the restaurant to give the certificate to a family who would love a good and hearty meal or two – or three-  for free.)