My Grandmother -grandma- You-re Wet- -final- By... Today

Grandma was in her wheelchair by the window, watching the rain hit the glass. She didn’t turn when I came in.

I visit every Sunday. We don’t talk much anymore. Her mind has become a house with most of the rooms closed off. She knows my face but sometimes calls me by my father’s name. She knows she is old but sometimes asks when her mother is coming to pick her up. My Grandmother -Grandma- you-re wet- -Final- By...

“Hey, Grandma,” I said. “It’s me.” Grandma was in her wheelchair by the window,

Only this time, she wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t angry. She reached out her free hand and touched my dripping chin, and she smiled—a real smile, the kind I hadn’t seen since she taught me to drive in her old Ford pickup. and she smiled—a real smile