ADVERTISEMENT
Then senior year came.
And everything changed.
But it didn’t stop.
I begged her to see a doctor. We didn’t have good insurance. She kept saying,
“Let’s get you across that stage first. That’s what matters.”
Then came that Thursday morning.
I walked into the kitchen expecting coffee and toast. Instead, there was silence.
She was on the floor.
One slipper twisted. Coffeepot half full. Glasses beside her hand.
“Grandma!” I screamed.
Continue reading…
ADVERTISEMENT