My Grandma Dana died a few months ago. She had a good long life, and it was the right time for her to go, but still sad. Michael and I had recently returned from a trip to Spain, and we were both at death’s door ourselves. I was coughing up blood from tearing my lung (from excessive and uncontrollable coughing), and Michael had pneumonia. It was awful, and I have literally never been so sick in my life. Of course this is all leading up to the fact that I didn’t go to the funeral. I am glad, though, that in the last few years of her life, we were able to talk on the phone from time to time – it was hard for her to talk much because of restricted air capacity in her lungs, and by e-mail. I was able to tell her how much she meant to me over the years, and learn about her life.

But then today I got a CD of some very old photos of Grandma Dana. Most of them are from her wedding day. And they made me realize, as old photos often do, that I didn’t know my Grandma Dana at all. She had this whole life 60 years ago. She was, and remains in my mind, lovely.

I hope she is happy now. She is missed and loved.