I remember leaving a dreary meeting late, noting that my father and my little sister both had called me and texted me, asking me to call them. The message hit me like something I could not comprehend in the least.

My mother's mother, my beloved grandma had died.

X met me immediately, and we left for Huddinge Hospital where she shell that was once my grandmother lied. She was immobile. Even at her worst (while alive) she was quite, not to say very vivid.

Her smile could permeate a room. Her wisdom and sense for fun seemingly endless. Kind, so kind. Funny. Filled with stories. Repetitive.

And I miss her so. I wish I could call her now and tell her I love her. I'll never get to do that again, and it's overwhelming.