A Grand Generation

My grandmother just passed away. She was 92 years old. Her name was Philomena Vuozzo. Her health had been fluctuating for the past year. She fought hard. In fact, the last time my family visited her at the nursing home, she had seemed to recover from a recent condition.

Only a couple of weeks ago, she was suffering from an unknown problem that made her very sleepy. She was unable to stay awake and it seemed as though she wouldn't be able to pull through; but she did. Then, today, for some strange reason—a riddle as old as time itself—she went to Heaven.

Maybe she missed Grandpa. Now she is an angel; at least, an angel in a different place, a better place. She is sitting next to Grandpa, hand in hand, making her friends laugh while God makes us cry. Yet, we are lucky; for her own laughter forever echoes in our hearts and her smile is stamped on our souls.

And now, four beautiful souls that touched my life like no others are together in Heaven. They are the grand generation, in every sense of the word.

I love you, Grandpa and Grandma Stevenson. I love you, Grandpa and Grandma Vuozzo. I love you. I love you. I love you. Ti amo.