Grandma as she wanted me to remember her–and as I choose to remember her
Every story has to end, even one as long and epic as Grandma’s. She made it to her 98th birthday–barely; she died at 1:10 am. But she made it.
Since she was 98, her passing was neither tragic nor unexpected. But it still hurt, and it still hurts. Yes, she lived a long, full life, but without her, the lives of those of us left behind aren’t quite as full.
I can’t write any more, so I’ll leave you with the eulogy I wrote for her. It’s not the finest piece of literature, but it’s hard to polish writing when you can barely see it through tears. And it sums up a lot of what I feel. Here it is:
Naomi Kimball Harris, my grandmother, has been a part of my life for as long as…
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