“Just remember that I love you.”
Through struggling breaths, my grandma said this to me last night from her hospital bed before I left for the night.
“I love you too,” I said in return.
My mom was completely convinced that her mom’s hospital bed was transitioning to her death bed.
Her death bed, by sun up.
I was on the fence about it, but just in case, I was comfortable with those final words.
They were perfect.
And with that, here she is today, miraculously better.
Even more evidence pointing to the universe’s marionette strings.
But why would the universe pull her to be snippy with my mom and exude zero gratefulness for anything?
I have no idea.
I won’t even hazard a guess.
Que sera sera is my only answer to the question “why”.
I’m just grateful, so incredibly grateful, for my health today, and so grateful, so incredibly grateful that I’m pulled to offer kindness often.
And just remember dear reader, I love you.