I guess I'm not handling my grandmother being in the hospital as well as I'd hoped. I'm not crying but . . . I just don't know what to do. Such good memories . . . and if she hadn't lived that night? What would happen?

The stubby lookin horse is what I imagine Brenda to be like. When I was little, I would go to my grandparents' house and play pretend that a certain broom was a horse and would ride around everywhere, taking my grandfather's tools and 'fixing' the trees that were hurt.

And if I ever fell or hurt myself, Granny was there to make it all better with kisses and plenty of neosporin.

I guess I'm just starting to really allow it to hit me that I could've very well lost her that evening . . . and that we're still not out of the woods yet.

Please, don't sympathize for me. I honestly don't want to hear the 'I'm sorries'.