I spoke with my grandma last night. She'll be 94 in January. We talked about how I can't remember what life was like before the internet and how she remembers when the TV was invented. When airplanes became commercial. Lots of wars. It's amazing how much the world has changed in her lifetime. Although I had to repeat myself a few times--not because she couldn't hear but, because she didn't remember--I am really thankful for how coherent she is.

I remember the first time I had to answer the same question twice. It was back in AZ, when Faith and I lived in the condo. I was in the kitchen. When I got off the phone with her, I sat down and cried. For a lot of reasons. I had never dealt with anything like that before. It made me sad that her mind was falling apart. I felt bad for people whose loved ones have Alzheimer's. I felt bad for being thankful that Nana didn't. I thought about what that will be like when it's my parents. Will they live long enough to start to forget? Will they live long enough to meet the guy I'm going to marry? I remember when Mem's dad died. Has it been 10 years already? Almost. She came over and went through all of the stages of grieving in about 2 hours. It was textbook and fascinating to watch, even through my heart breaking for her. I remember she was so mad that her sister was walked down the aisle, but that she'll never have that experience. Dan walked her down when it was time. Steph's dad had died the year before. So, that's something that's in the back of my mind. Two of my best friends lost their fathers, who will never get to share in the life experiences my dad always talks about.

Anyway, all that went through my mind after I hung up the phone. In the years following, I've become patient in having the same conversation four times in 20 minutes. It doesn't make me sad. Just thankful that she's still around for me to talk to. It makes me smile when she says she's proud of me.