Today, I am still trying to recover from an exhausting weekend.

While laying out pages at work, I longed to return to my apartment, take a hot shower and curl up under blankets, surrounded by the noise of nothing. I had not been home in four days- Friday night Phil and I went to a party in Atlanta, and Saturday through Sunday we visited my grandmother in Columbus, Ga.

My grandfather died three months ago. Now both grandfathers are dead. He was an incredibly wonderful man, and my grandmother is having a tough time healing. She can't sleep at night. She wants me to visit as often as possible- if I were closer, I could do this more- but life tends to keep us all distanced both mentally and physically all too often.

When Phil and I rolled up into the driveway, I noticed my grandfather's car was no longer there, and the vision hit me hard. The tears in my eyes were sudden, and were the opposite of what I usually felt when arriving at their home all of my life. When she came to the door, I hugged my grandmother for a while and she cried, too. Then we all went out and ate fish, and she told us about how she went out for dinner several times a week and cried in the same places she and grandfather used to eat.

For much of that day and next, she told us everything that was going on, we helped her around the house, and she had me call several relatives who were all also going to die soon. Although this was rough for me, I know it was tremendously harsher on my grandmother, who was slowly but surely losing all of her friends as time wore on.

Golden years my ass.

She was so glad we were there, though. I longed to do more for her, but little can be done except offering your ear and your love in this situation. She and my grandfather had been together for 58 years, and had shared a wonderful life. Must console in that. I'll be sending her another card again soon.

I had been up at 5 a.m. on Sunday, and wanted to walk outside and watch the meteor shower, but I'd have to switch the burglar alarm off and that would mean waking my grandmother, which I refused to do. I strained to look out any window that might offer a view, but this did not work. I went back to bed, wondering if perhaps my grandfather could see the event.