My grandmother

My mother's mother died when I was 40. My grandmother saved me in every way a baby, a boy, and a man can be saved. I won't write the details, but there is no one who knew her and knew me that did not know the ways she kept me on track from birth through adulthood. My grandmother was the light of my life, and I have never been nor ever will be as close to anyone else as I was to her. When she was ill with lymphoma in 1999, I dropped everything to be with her. I was willing to let everything in my life slide into disaster to be with her. Almost 10 years after her death, I can hardly remember anything I laid aside, but I do remember holding her hand when she died. I lost nothing by being with her in her last days, but I live with a comfortable, if sad memory, that I was with her in the end the same way she was with me all along the way.