Last night, as we readied to leave Cory's grandmother's house in Woodland, we got a call from his mother to let us know that his other grandmother, her mom, had suffered another stroke that day. Things are not looking well for Grandma Dean and so we made the short drive over to her house to say what will probably be our goodbyes.

She recognized us when we came in the door and even said hello, but there's little else she can do. And there's little anyone else can do and so we gave her kisses and squeezed her hand and then finally left.

It rained most of the way home to Sacramento and yet the sky still had that frosty December glow and we tried to talk about how pretty it all looked.

...And now, in the time that it's taken me to write the above, we got the call from Cory's mom and Grandma Dean just passed away. The memorial service won't be until after Christmas and until then we'll go on as usual, celebrating and trying to remember why we put so much effort into all the activities that come about this time of year.

Later tonight we'll go drive around town looking at Christmas lights and listening to the Johnny Cash Christmas CD with Jeff and Rochelle and I will try very hard to breathe in the small moments of quiet and be grateful for the occasion.