My grandma died. She was 93.
I didn’t know her as well as I would like; it’s too late for that now. She had a tremendous life, from my viewpoint, because it was all about family for her. 96 great-grandkids will give you an idea of what family meant to her.
It wasn’t all fun and games, I know. But I still believe she had a good time and knew she was loved. What more can you wish for?
A motorcycle hearse, maybe!