This past Saturday I drove to Greensboro to spend some time with my grandmother Gigi. I turned off her TV and put on Celtic music. She napped while I crocheted granny squares. I read aloud passages from the Bible and an article on cherry blossoms from my January copy of Southern Living. I told her stories of what was going on in my life today and memories I had of when I was younger.
She didn’t remember who I was, but it was the perfect morning. At one point I said, “I love you Gigi!” and she laughed and said, “Well, I love you too!” as if it was silly to have any other response.