I received a phone call from my mom a few minutes ago, and I could immediately tell she was forcing her words through tears. She and my dad are scheduled to embark on their drive to Oregon and Washington this morning, so my mind immediately started racing to guess at the cause of her distress. Were they in an accident?

My grandmother—my mom’s mother—passed away early this morning.

She had been in declining health and suffering from Alzheimer’s disease for several years. We visited her and my grandfather over the Christmas holiday in 2005. This woman, of whom I have so many fond childhood memories, was a complete stranger to me, as I was to her. After that visit, I had resigned myself to knowing that I would never see her again. While I knew this day could not be far off, one can never truly prepare for it. Already I can feel the sadness just under the surface, welling up periodically, threatening to overtake me.

I feel worse when I think about my own mother. This will be especially hard her. Not only from of the loss, but because she was scheduled to spend time with her mother this week.

Rest in peace, Grandma. I’m sorry you’ll never get the chance to meet your great grandchild. We’ll miss you terribly.