Today is the one year anniversary of my grandpa's death. He got sick and slowly died. Grandma, on the other hand, is 92 years old and still kicking the ass of everything death throws at her.
She's had more surgeries and bouts of cancer than the rest of the family combined. Many surgeries after she was 80. Her artificial heart valve was supposed to give out decades ago.
She's even outlived her doctors, especially the ones who predicted her death decades ago. And all this on a high fat diet compounded by stress out the wazoo.
The only explanation any of us can give is she refuses to die because if she does, there won't be anyone around to worry about us. And that's what she does best. It's a family legend.
"Go Grandma!"
Stay away from me you punk! I'm not going until I see my granddaughter happily married to a handsome young rich man who will provide for her every need!
