She came into my life not long before my mom died and picked up that role exactly when I most needed mothering. She is the only grandma my child has ever known. We talked almost every day and even now, on my way home from NYC, I find myself reaching for the phone to tell her how devastated I feel over losing the best friemd I ever had. For 20 years, almost every day, I've reached for a phone or driven to her house to share with her good news, bad news, hair-brained ideas, bad jokes, or my latest disaster. I was driving through Times Square today
when her daughter called to tell me that "Mom didn't make it." I'll get home this morning, nap, and get back in the car to go to Atlanta and say good-bye before they discontinue the life-support. I told her daughter that I wouldn't get there until early evening. She said that they'd be waiting for me and that she'd already told my dearest friend how much I loved her and that I was on my way. Her brain function has ceased and who she was, really is no longer, but I am certain that part of her is right here with me on this most important road trip.