Nonnie

My grandmother was a strong, independent woman, who loved music, my grandfather, and her family. I spoke with her a few weeks before she died. She told me she was proud of me and that she loved me.

This is what she also told me:

"Last week I had a dream. I dreamed I went to church and when I opened my mouth to sing, I found I had forgotten all the words to the song. I have never forgotten the words before," she said.

"A few days later I went to church. I tried to sing, like in my dream and I couldn't," she told me sadly. "If I cannot sing, then I do not want to be here any more," she said sternly, with dignity.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "I know," I told her, because I understand. For in my heart I feel the same. If there ever comes a day when I cannot sing, then I do not want to be here anymore either.

"I love you," I told her, knowing it was probably for the last time.