September 1st, 2011


(no subject)

(Posted as a comment but seemed worth repeating)

My grandmother died at the age of 94, the day after my son and I went to visit her. While we were there I held her hand and told her how much she was love and that it was okay to go, that the things she cared for would be well taken care of. She could barely mumbling but I believe she said thank you.

She didn't fear death, she feared not living anymore, there is a vast and beautiful difference.