July 29, 2011
Sacred Moments
By Greg Swinney The white apron covered her faded flowered dress. Breakfast was the first thing on the agenda for my visit, but I stopped eating my cornflakes when I noticed my grandmother reach into an apron pocket and pull out a crumpled piece of notebook paper. Just a few months earlier she had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. “I want you to do my funeral,” she bravely said. “Let”s not talk about that now,” I replied. “Oh, yes we will,” she insisted, handing me the notebook paper. “This is my obituary, and it”s what I want you to read
