Over the weekend, my 97-year-old grandmother passed away. I've written about her (including here), and probably will write more at some point. There are so many things I have to be grateful for: her amazing sense of humor and great laugh, her unparalleled strength and especially the generosity of her love. We were so lucky to have her for so many years; even after she recently became sick, she still managed to be her quick-witted, straight-shooting self. (After she said to me, "You're so beautiful," and I replied that looks are genetic--I got mine from her--she said wryly, "No one believes that.") I have many beautiful memories of her last days, which included more of her one-liners than I can even count at this point, and also the comforts of being with family, both large and small.
At the moment of her death, she was surrounded by her family. Most of us had the chance to say goodbye, and "I love you," oh, a hundred or so times, so there was the peace of nothing have been left unsaid. The whole experience was powerful and, undoubtedly, a huge blessing. I don't have it in me to share funny stories (though there were definitely those--she made some outrageously adorable comments and wishes in her final days). Instead, here is a photo of her with my grandfather. Their expressions and the light say it better than I ever could.
Wishing you a happy Thanksgiving--count your blessings, with pleasure.