My mom, me, and my sister at my top ten banquet This is a true story from my childhood, about one of my favorite people, my Grandma. When I was a little girl, I spent everyday with my Mom's parents. When I was two, my Grandpa died from a heart attack during his sleep. Some people dispute the fact that we have memories from that age, but I remember my Grandpa. I remember the way he smelled like smoking tobacco, the way that he tickled me every time I saw him, I remember the night that he bought a speaker phone and called me, and I remember the way it felt when he hugged me. After my Grandpa died, I spent even more time at my Grandma's house. Later, we found out that my Grandma had cancer, and my mom tried to let me know that she was sick. This is the true story of the last day that I heard my Grandma sing (they loved music), and why Happy Birthday means more to me than most people. I want to share this writing with you, even though it's a day past Mother's Day, becaus...
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