An ode.

Great Granny Whitley.
My grandmother's mother.

A few hours ago a call from a number neither I nor my grandma knew came in. After three calls in a row the decision was made to answer it.
It was my great aunt. She's been at the hospital all day with my great grandmother who's feet were swelling and who was having extreme difficulty breathing. The end is most assuredly near for her.
At nearly 80 years of age, she's lived a full life. She bore three strong women, who each had their own children, and then they had children. She's a legacy. A legacy that will be remembered for all the good rather than the bad.
I don't talk about my great grandmother very often because I've never had much to do with her. She's suffered all her life from various mental illnesses and disorders. But despite all of that, there is a lot of strength and good times to be remembered about her.
She's worked since a very young age, suffered the shame and embarrassment of a divorce before divorce was everyone's answer for marital problems, battled and defeated cancer, and supported the three families of her daughters.
Keep my family in your prayers as we spend these upcoming days at her deathbed.