Aug 19, 2021
5 min read
My Father’s Mother
The second time I lost my dad.
“I love you,” my grandmother said to me on her deathbed.
A list of the possible answers that went through my head:
- OK.
- Thanks (?).
- I love you, too.
“Oh, grandma,” I managed as I ran my fingers over her bruised forearm, her dried up veins. It occurred to…
