I've often heard people say, "This is the worst day of my life." I used to say that too, until I actually had the worst day. Actually I will say days. My grandma was the cool one. The one who took us shopping, or could do our hair, because she was a beautician. My sister and I could just hang out and be ourselves. She was a smoker, but I didn't think much about until later on in my life.
I was young at the time she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I really didn't get why her hair was falling out or why she was weak more often. To me she was just plain brave. She was even cooler, because she got to wear a wig. She recovered after chemotherapy. I thought every thing would return to normal, but that was a mistake. About two years later she was diagnosed with lung cancer. I was still pretty young, but I understood what cancer was and that she was sick. Her best friend was rich, so my grandma had the privilege to travel a little before the worst of the cancer set in. We went to Florida for a week to spend time with her. One of her last requests was to be able to walk along the beach with her granddaughters and collect shells. If I had realized at the time she was dying, I would have spent more time with her.
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