Oh, Okay Gram.

I always knew I had a unique Grandma.
I wanted to be like her growing up; I still do.

She was strong and smart; had the confidence to wear a pink tutu and leotard on a stage in front of a hundred people when she was sixty-five years old.

Her love for my Grandpa never wavered, he was her other half. We used to sit and tell stories about him after he died, hers always ending with “I just miss him so much”.

She had the most ridiculous laugh I've ever seen. It wasn't a laugh humans could hear, maybe her beloved dogs could, but we all just watched it happen; Gram turning into a ball of chuckles tears escaping from under her teal trifocals.

She didn't bake cookies, instead she made bread and ox tail stew.

She tap danced, had a masters degree, was a magical piano player, went hunting with my Grandpa, sat a lawn chair in the river because she was always hot and loved to fish.

Her feet were long, thin and always hurt; her garden was proof that both her thumbs were green.

I'd give anything to own another one of the sweaters she used to knit for us as children, especially the brown one I used to loathe.

She didn't say “I love you”, instead she said “Oh, Okay” in a drawn out way that sounded more like “OOOOhKhaaaay”. Except in the last year or so. As disease started to steal her away more and more rapidly, she started to tell me she loved me. Slowly, each word meaning so much to her.
“ I Love You Too”.
It almost sounded like a song in her lovely deep voice.

Yes.

I opened my eyes at seven am; I always do when there's no alarm to wake me up earlier. The sun hadn't completed it's pull up over the horizon just yet, but the early morning light was beginning to filter around the black curtain behind our bed. As if my internal alarm clock also managed to wake him, the nurse opened his eyes and smiled at me.
“Morning Babe.”

This is his favorite time of day. We rest in each others arms, talk about the dreams we had and what's on our plates for the rest of the day. I tell him the odd dream I had the night before; he tells me about his dream for our future. There isn't enough light to see his face as his breath rubs my cheek, but I know his green eyes are probably tearing; mine are and I'm not the sensitive one.

“I know I should wait.” He says in a low voice as he reaches his long arms around me to get a small wooden box from the pocket of his jacket. Vedder jumps onto the bed, knowing something big is about to happen and wanting to be a witness. “But I can't wait anymore. I love being here with you, before the day starts. I want to start everyday like this for the rest of my life. I've never dreamt about a future with anyone before... you are my future Liz. Will you marry me?”

“Of course. Yes.” I barely whisper. He wipes the tears from my cheeks and places the ring on my finger.

“I'm sorry it wasn't a better proposal.”

“It was perfect. All of it. I love you.”