We take the same steps almost every visit, yet each one brings a new joy.   She walks closest to her rose bushes, each getting a unique compliment.    Neither of us can ever tire of this routine, as we pass them, each a different color. I never knew roses came in such a variety.   Every color ever made was strategically planted in her backyard, blending together like the sky at dawn.   Eventually, the walks through the garden would turn into memories.  

      Instead of holding her hand as I heard each story, I would be holding her hand as she looked at me like a stranger.    I would listen to her reminisce about childhood memories and how things were back then, yet her tiring eyes were unaware of who she was talking to.   Every other day brought the same heartbreaking visits. Her gaze almost felt like she thought she should recognize me, only to forget anyone was even there.

     Walking into her hospital room that Sunday was like walking through a door into another dimension.    She looked the same, acted the same, nothing physically had changed, yet something more powerful told me this would be our last visit.    I made my way to her side, pulled up a chair and laid my head on the cold railing. Tears were uncontrollable at this point, my heart was heavy.    I managed to find the strength for some closing words. “I think we have to say goodbye, I love you so much Mary.”    ‘Mary’ was our inside joke, one of those random moments that brought her smile directly through her eyes, that gleamed of unconditional love.  Although the visit was shorter then it had ever been, it was time to go.    I picked up my head to give her one last hug and kiss, to find her head turned toward me, tears running down her cheeks, “I love you too, Kim.”  

     I will forever hold the whisper of my name in my heart. It felt like an eternity, and was truly an intervention.   Just as suspected, that would be the last time I would see Grandma Mary.  That unwanted, but expected phone call came the next day.