I wanted to thank you all, so much, for the incredibly lovely notes of response you sent after last night's post about Nanny. Truly, I was moved to tears by your kindness and thoughtfulness. This morning, after returning home from drop-offs and such, I called my Mom. She's been in Houston, and I imagined her happily driving home, restored by a little R&R. Instead, she was already back, having left at the crack of dawn this morning. It seems Nanny had a stroke yesterday, and though today has shown some improvement, she is not doing terribly well. Isn't it strange that I thought so much of her yesterday and today had plans to make one of her cheesecakes. I think because of that, the news today was especially jarring.

Nanny is 92 and has lived far longer than anyone in her family line ever has. For years, she's come back from a whole host of crap: broken hip, broken shoulder, regular UTIs, stroke. I dare say she's shocked anew each time she makes it through another trial. After she fell and broke her hip, she said "I thought for sure that's what was going to kill me. How about that!" I loved her candor and spirit.

Because she soldiers on, always with a dignity and grace for which we should all strive, she's been at events we never thought she'd see: my wedding and those of my sister and two cousins; the birth of four great-grandchildren who she's actually had time to get to know. Selfishly, we all wanted her present for each and every one of those occasions and often pushed her to do her exercises or PT in support of that. "Come on, Nanny, you can do it" (she HATES exercise) and "thank you so much, Nanny, for always being there." I know she's grateful for all the extra time, to have been at all these things, to know how much her kids, grandkids and great-grandkids love her.

But she is so tired and frail, is largely incapacitated, and her eyes and ears are giving out. The marvels of modern medicine are that, but they also make it so hard to find a natural end. We don't yet know what, if any, abilities she lost in this most recent stroke, but I am ever-hopeful that whatever the outcome, she is happy and comfortable. She deserves no less.