While I was in Minneapolis with my husband (see some other adventures here and here and here and here and here), we went to visit his grandma.
She had a stroke almost 20 years ago, and has never fully recovered.
She's lost a lot of her ability to hear and see clearly...
And she can't really use the whole left side of her body.
Seeing the care that each of her children gave her was so beautiful.... even just the little things, like feeding her a mango.
But isn't that how it's supposed to be?
Your parents take care of you when you're little... And then you take care of them when they're older?
I found myself humbled and sobered by this woman I'd never met.
This woman that welcomed me as her granddaughter... me, some strange white girl that she'd never seen before.
And as we sang her songs about heaven... she sang along.
Because she knows that she'll be home soon.
And somehow in that moment... I was comforted.
I won't be here forever.
