The Call.

My wife's grandmother and my grandmother were best friends back in the old country. Their friendship continued as they grew. They stuck by one another through school, marriage and the challenges of raising children. In fact, my wife's grandmother used to babysit my father when he was a toddler. She was devastated when my grandmother died, years before I was born.

Naturally, everyone was ecstatic to hear that my wife and I fell in love. It was all rather random. I was reintroduced to my wife at my brother's wedding. Her grandmother was so pleased. I'd never known what it was like to have a grandmother. I couldn't help but feel simultaneously cheated that I never grew up around my grandmother and fortunate to have been adopted by my wife's.

Two days ago, at 8 AM, the phone rang. My wife's grandmother died.

She was a wonderful person and I am heartened to know that her suffering is over and that she has moved on to a better place. Becoming acquainted with the joy of having a grandmother and then losing her is painful. I will never forget her.