Doris Griswold 1926-2007

I don't know how to write this.

I spent all weekend in the hospice wing of Manchester Memorial Hospital, sitting with my grandmother as she took her final journey into twilight. She went into the ICU on Friday, and on Saturday we learned that she had terminal cancer of the liver and the breast that had spread throughout her body. There was nothing the doctors could do, except keep her comfortable as she died.

We didn't get there until around 5 pm on Saturday - by then, she'd already lapsed into unconciousness. She never really came around again to speak to us, but she was awake and recognized my aunt's voice late Sunday night.

My grandma was a rabid Yankees fan - as you all know, I'm a rabid Red Sox fan, but we had fun watching games together, especially when our teams went head to head. We watched our last game together Sunday night, and for the first time in my life, I prayed the Yankees would win.

They did. I gave her the play-by-play, especially when her favorite, Derek Jeter, came to the plate. When A-Rod hit that home run in the 9th that put the Yankees ahead, her eyes opened, and she smiled. When we told her they'd won, she sighed.

My grandmother was one hell of a woman, and she was my idol. "Red" loved flowers, birds and doing crazy things with her grandchildren - she had 9 of them, and adored it when she got to see them. This past year, she got to see her first great-grandchild, my niece Lily. When she went, she was surrounded with family.

There's more I want to write, but I don't have the words right now.

I miss you, Gram, and I love you.