“Gran, what happens if you die?” Her eyes grow two sizes. “My dear girl, I’m not going to die.” “That’s a lie,” I say as I plunk down my spoon in protest. “You’re right. I will die one day. But not soon. And besides, even when I’m gone, I won’t leave you. You won’t see me, but I’ll be there with you, always.” “Like a ghost?” “Yes. Like a friendly ghost haunting you for the rest of your days. And reminding you to brush your teeth when you’re done with your breakfast.” She smiles and grazes my cheek with her palm.
