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I am back. Tired. Drained.
My Grandma was 89. She was born in 1919. She married her high-school sweetheart. I saw her yearbook from her Senior Year of High School. I saw pictures of my Grandparents together when they were dating. I saw the card my Grandfather gave her when he proposed. I saw pictures of my Dad growing up and vacations and joy. I saw cards and letters to her when my grandfather died. I saw pictures of her second marriage and vacations and step kids and grandchildren. And cards and letters to her when he died. I found the last anniversary card she never got to send him. I found the last cards each of her husbands ever gave her.
I think today is probably the saddest day of my life.
My Grandma was 89. She was born in 1919. She married her high-school sweetheart. I saw her yearbook from her Senior Year of High School. I saw pictures of my Grandparents together when they were dating. I saw the card my Grandfather gave her when he proposed. I saw pictures of my Dad growing up and vacations and joy. I saw cards and letters to her when my grandfather died. I saw pictures of her second marriage and vacations and step kids and grandchildren. And cards and letters to her when he died. I found the last anniversary card she never got to send him. I found the last cards each of her husbands ever gave her.
I think today is probably the saddest day of my life.
