The Wrong Order...

That's what my 103-year-old Great Grandma said when we told her that her daughter, my grandma, had died. My grandma died the evening of Mother's Day.

She had been sick and spent the last several months in pain and unhappy. So, in some ways,there is an element of relief--for her sake-- but it's also a sad reality for those of us left here. Especially her mother. That's the thing that keeps making me teary and choked up--that my grandma's mom is suffering this. I think it's fair to say that losing a child is the worst, most painful thing someone can experience, no matter how old you are.

I am grateful that I spent many hours with my Grandma on Mother's Day. I am grateful that I lived 2 blocks from my Grandma for most of my childhood. I am grateful that she saw me graduate from college and law school; celebrated my wedding(s); and was able to spend a year and a half getting to know Johan.

I am grateful that this was our last substantive conversation, on the morning of Mother's Day.

Grandma: Kristina, I dreamed that you and I argued last
night.

Kristina: What about?

G: Opening doors, closing doors.

K: Huh..well, who won?

G: I just quit arguing with you.

K: Oh, so I won.

G: Well, I don't know about all that.

She may not have been a lawyer, but she certainly was able to hold her own in an argument, about doors and just about anything else.