The Last Month with My Grandma
My sister, father, and I had been at the Defiance County Fair for over four days. We were already to show our perfectly, fit sheep and taste the victory of our winnings when the call came. August 22, 2011, started out as a calm summer morning until a loud annoying alarm went off on my bedside table. My dad sluggishly walked over to pick up his phone as my sister and I anxiously waited for him to hang it up. The phone snapped shut, and my dad turned toward us to deliver the grim news: “ Grandma had a stroke last night, and Mom is on her way to the hospital in Toledo to see her.” Time seemed to slow, and my heart was pounding in my chest. The tears rolled down my face like a river though the forest. It couldn’t be. I had just seen her, and she was perfectly fine. Then my stomach plummeted further; I had one of most important shows of the year in front of me, and I wanted to just leave the fair and run to grandma’s side.
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