Monday, February 25, 2013


She was 99. She died the way we all want to -- at the end of a rich, full, life, ready to go, without pain. And still I felt my face crumble when I placed a single rose on her casket and turned away.

My dad noticed this across the room and came over to hold me wordlessly while I cried.

"I thought you could use a hug," he said, placing his arms protectively around me.

"I could, dad. I could."

RIP, Grandmom.

(Sent from my phone)

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