I visited my grandmother yesterday.

I think I am too like her- not fond of company and not easy to get to know. But the few chances I have to see her and actually chat with her are always interesting. I get more insight into her character.

We talked of religion, as my nephew was getting his first comunion. That branch of the family are the only Catholics we have in our mismatched collection. I hadn't realized how open minded Gram was- she stated what I had said earlier- may the boy always have something to believe in, and follow the teachings properly. We agreed that we could not understand God, as no one really can.

And we talked of smoking. When I was about 10, I crawled into her lap and asked her to stop smoking. I told her that if she loved us and wanted to stay with us, why was she doing something that would definitely kill her? But she didn't stop smoking then. And within two years, her husband would be dead from cancer. She managed to stop smoking for 2 years, age 88 to 90. But then she decided she wanted another cigarette, and she went and bought a pack. So she still smokes, maybe a pack every other month. But at 92- who cares if she smokes? She's oxygen-dependant sure, but gosh. It's not going to kill her young any more. She isn't young. Let her have her pleasures.

And I don't know how much longer we will have with her. Her face has always been a roadmap of wrinkles in my memory. But now, the wrinkles have fallen forward and there is smooth skin back around her ears and the edge of her face, and I can see the top surface of her skin is yellowing more than a piano. She was tired from a kidney infection, and I left her when she wanted another nap.

But I am glad I went to visit her. I think it made my day, and I think it made hers.  ¶ 10:27 AM