A little over 2 years ago my Mom, Gram, moved into a nursing home. It was a tough move for a woman who had always been fiercely independent and whose home, where she had lived for more than 50 years and raised her 7 children, was her sanctuary.
The nursing home that became her new home is just down the hill from where Emma went to high school. A couple of months after her Gram moved in down the hill, Emma was inducted into the school’s music honor society. This meant that twice a month she had brief meetings after school on Friday. The meetings ended before her dad or I could pick her up, so it left her with some time to fill. She could have arranged to meet some friends downtown or done homework in the library but, instead, she chose to walk down the hill to visit her Gram. She would sit and chat with her for about an hour until one of us picked her up.
They always seem to be having a nice, comfortable time together when we arrived. In fact, Peter commented on how much it seemed like Emma enjoyed those visits. And my mom would always seem especially alert and bright after the hour spent with Emma. They did each other good. Kindred spirits.
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