My grandma died early last Monday, September 29. She was 99 years old. Her name was Adallae. She filled my life with love and laughter and meaning. Larry and I went up for her memorial service this past weekend. It was the most beautiful service I'd ever attended. Larry offered comfort and all the right words and gestures. We sent her out the way she asked--with a song of praise and stories of laughter.
My mom is the sole remainder of her family now. She had to do most of this alone, and what a beautiful tribute she made for my grandma.
When I am feeling stronger, I want to write about my wonderful grandma.
I took Monday off to spend time with my mom in Michigan. It didn't go as planned. Instead, I had to say goodbye to Primo. Primo was my best friend. He was sixteen. He adopted me when he was 3. I spent thirteen and half wonderful years with this generous and gentle soul.
Larry and I feel the crushing sorrow of his loss on a minute-by-minute basis.
When I feel stronger, I'm going to talk about my wonderful dog, Primo.
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