My grandma

Yesterday my grandma turned 88. And she has all the reasons in the world to celebrate because she has done nothing, but help people she met along the way.

In all my memories, she was this kind, loving, caring person. And not only to me, but to everyone around her. I remember her house always full of plants. I used to say she lived in a jungle. She loves being surrounded by life. Her house always bursting with movement and people coming and going!

My nana had three children. Two died before they even turned 5. Things were tough back then. But I never heard her complain. I only know about this children because other people told me. Grandma was never a moaner. She looked at the bright side and celebrated her victories. She truly counted her blessings.

Yesterday I called her. Called to say I love her. To say I miss her and she is always in my thoughts, always in my heart.

Once again she was delightful. She said she is doing well. She can walk, she can talk, she is in no pain. The oxygen tank, her constant companion now a days, is a bit different, but she can cope with it.

That's exactly why I was not ready for what came next. She told me she is 88 now. And this is a pretty cool age. She is ready to go. She does not need any more birthdays.

It scared me. Confused me. And then I understood.

My grandma is feeling her strengh leave her. She can feel her body changing. And she is preparing us. She does not want us to suffer, so she is once again, making our path easier. She is even saying it is her wish. Making it sound like it is a choice.

Grandma, please don't go. Don't leave us. Stay a little longer. Have another coffee.