We sat vigil like that for a few hours. Talking about life and including her in the conversation or humming songs we knew she liked. Mom told me stories about when she was a little girl playing on her grandparent's farm. She talked about feeding the chickens and pigs and milking the cow. She said her grandmother made the best biscuits. Mum told me in a whisper that the nurses said talking about familiar things helps or memories or of people Gran knew. She told me Gran was crazy about her parents. Mum said she did not want to talk about grandad because it was still too painful for her. I had never met my Grandad. He died years before I came along with lung cancer. He was a heavy smoker, but back then, everyone was a heavy smoker. Mum said he smelled like burnt molasses. He always wore a three-piece suit on Sunday. He never passed up a chance to gab with someone even if he had just met them on the street.

Mom said Gran would laugh and tell her that you never knew who he would drag home for dinner. She put a stop to it once mum was born. He was still friendly, but he always asked Gran before he showed up with a stranger at the door. As long as I had known Gran, everyone was welcome at her home. She had the gift of gab. I guess my grandfather did as well. Mum said they were a striking couple. She told me she remembered them dancing in the kitchen after dinner to the radio. It was one of her favorites of her father. She said he loved dancing the two-step with mum around the kitchen more than watching any old tv show. Mum said she was all talked out. Gran had a grimace on her face, and her lips were tight. Almost without thinking, I grabbed for the lotion the nurses left on the side table.

I put some lotion on her hands and rubbed her hands the way she had taught me when I was little. She gave the most fabulous hand massages ever. She would grab my hands when I was tense, scared, or angry and massaged them the same way—from the out to the in, taking time at each group of muscles to use her thumb and release the pent up frustrations. Every muscle relaxed. I swore you could feel all your muscles relax. Gran would smile and say, "I think we are finished" then she would tap my nose three times and say "are you ready for cheese little mouse" and into the kitchen, we would go for cheese and crackers.