My grandmother had a stroke the evening before I flew down to Florida to spend a quick visit with her. Since then my quick visit has turned into 13 days and counting. I have played the role of caretaker, steadying my arm and my heart in order to help her and her husband, Carter.
My grandmother, an 87-year-old rock star who still steals cigarette breaks on the side balcony overlooking the bay in Clearwater, Florida. She does pretty well for herself despite suffering from two strokes in the past 10 months. She still loves her white wine with ice. She still walks around refusing a cane, and she still cooks up a mean meal.