. . . how much my last entry reminds me of my grandma, who is 90 years and 5 months old, and who, when I last gave her a hug at the end of a visit said, "Come back and see me," with such urgency that I can't get her words out of my mind. And as the days since that visit tick by--Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and now Thursday--I wonder if I'm letting time slip away that shouldn't slip, and I wonder if she has something urgent to tell me, or if her words grow more out of not wanting to be left alone and forgotten, and maybe of not fully feeling--because I am guessing that in the end it is difficult to have that sort of confidence--that you can cross to the other side and find people there waiting specifically for you, and you alone, people who love you, know you, and will gladly encircle you in their embrace. I wonder what I should say, what I could say, to let her know that, even though so many people in her life were rotten, there will be people like me, people who love her, over there. And everything will be more than okay. It will be glorious.
My grandma is glorious already.
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