You might have noticed that the previous post was published over a week past Fathers’ Day. That’s because while I was writing it, I received the call that my grandmother in Utah was dying. Her husband, my dad’s dad, passed away just days before Miles was born. I was close to both of my grandparents on that side, and I’ve become even more close to my grandmother since then. The news that Gramma was dying was completely unexpected. Mark spent the evening helping me make arrangemets to leave for Utah the next morning, and I was gone for two days.

I called her most Sundays after Dad died, because he had always been the sibling to check in on them regularly.

I have all these thoughts running through my mind, about my dad’s family, my grandmother’s family (she and my grandfather were both married and divorced before they found each other), my relationship with my grandparents, how I fit into everything, what it was like to be there for her passing.

I guess what it comes down to for me is this though. The definition of family is fluid, or it should be. There’s always room to add more people to your family, and my life is richer for getting to know my grandmother’s family even better recently.

Gramma and Miles, the last time I got to see her. I miss her so much.

Gramma and Miles, the last time I got to see her. I miss her so much.


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