Last Words

I know that my Nanna is 93.
I know that she has macular degeneration in her eyes.
I know that she is in what she calls a "geriatric hotel".
I know she has all her marbles, but her body is letting her down, more and more.

When I look at the Christmas card I received yesterday, I understand those things in a way I haven't before.

I remember the ease with which she wrote me long letters, and I can see the effort these few words have taken.

I remember the way of her always choosing the correct words to say exactly what she means, and I can see it here when she uses "regular correspondence".

She has always been there, encouraging me to read more and more, to carry on after my divorce, to be strong after I was widowed with a six yr old, she was always there. For everything!

Suddenly, I am aware that these could be the last words she writes to me.