An unexpectedly personal #mumstory

My grandmother – my Amah, I’ve always called her – isn’t well. She’s 85, and she recently took yet another spill. My dad’s been by her side in the hospital for the past several weeks. I did call, right after it happened. I put on a sweet 30-year-old grandchild smile and told her she looked great, just great, and then I hung up and I cried and cried. Visiting isn’t a practical option – I live across the Atlantic Ocean. What I do have is my little words, and so I’ve been writing to her, almost every day. She can’t…

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