My grandmother loved Shirley Temple. I think if she were still alive today she would probably cry at the news of Ms. Temple’s passing.

For my part, I owe a debt of gratitude to Ms. Temple. It was Shirley Temple, and youtube, who helped me say goodbye to my 85-year-old grandmother last October.

When my grandmother was lying in hospice, on her deathbed, my Mom and I sang Shirley Temple songs to her via youtube clips of old movies featuring the child star. Somewhere in between ‘Animal Crackers In My Soup’ and ‘The Good Ship Lollypop’ we found a moment of grace and some measure of peace in each others fellowship.

Three generations, me, my mother and mom’s mom, sat in grandma’s hospice room singing along to her favorite artist. My grandmother really couldn’t see at all but I played VJ none the less, pulling up a slew of youtube clips from old Shirley Temple movies. I put the phone right up to grandma’s ear and she lip-synced along while mom and I belted out tunes.

I think the nurses thought we were having too much fun considering the somber circumstance but we celebrated grandma’s life late into the evening and Shirley gave us the strength to smile instead of cry.

My mom was working on the other side of the country while her mother was in hospice. She serves in Congress and this was during the government shutdown so she really had no choice. I told my mom I would represent our wing of the family at hospice and monitor grandma’s condition. After about a week of sitting, laughing, praying and reminiscing, with grandma in high spirits, she started to go downhill dramatically.

I called my mom and said, “you need to come home now. It’s happening.”

My mom hopped on a plane the next day. By the time she arrived it was evening. Grandma wasn’t really talking anymore but she was lucid. When my mom walked in the room grandma’s whole face lit up with surprise. I don’t think she expected to see her daughter again in this life.

Thinking of it now makes me want to cry but I find the corners of my mouth turning up instead. It was a gift.

As a young child my mother used to put on Shirley Temple records, yes vinyl, while I attempted to mimic the pint-sized ‘30s starlet. When I ‘perfected’ my routine my folks would drive me out to the big house, that’s what everybody calls my grandparents home on our family ranch. I would perform in the living room and afterward my grandma would help me accessorize my outfit with some costume jewelry or even one of grandma’s blond, curly wigs.

My grandma was a talented artist but she raised ranchers who showed cows, bailed hay and irrigated. As it turned out I was a tomboy too, more interested in sports, barrel racing and cows than make-up, dress-up or the arts. Those rare moments of performance with Shirley Temple as my role model helped me connect with my grandma from the time I was six or eight. Through Ms. Temple’s records and old movies we built relationship that lasted until she passed away at 85.

At hospice one of the nurses told me that sometimes those who transition, the delicate word for die, help those still living ‘find the light’. It sounds a little new age and mystical to write this but I like to think that my grandmother might just get to welcome her hero to the other side.