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My Visit

Published June 25, 2011 - 0 Comments

I don’t visit as often as I should. I feel guilty as hell, but I hate to see her like that. Still, it’s no excuse.

I walked into her room today and said hello. She replied, but it was obvious that she did not know me. She looked straight ahead. Never at me. Her sight is all but gone now. She appeared so weak and frail. It broke my heart to see her like that. I stepped out of the room for a moment. I had to. Although I told her, I’m not sure that she even noticed.

She began to sing softly a tune only she knew. I stood in the hall and listened.

As I returned to the room, I took her hand in mine.

“I love you”, I told her, as I kissed the top of her head. “She squeezed my hand and told me that she loved me too. It’s the only time during my visit that I felt she recognized me. My eyes began to fill with tears. And even though she could not see them, I believe that she sensed them.

For that brief moment she was my Grammy again.