When I met Rob, his grandparents had started to move past their prime, and had started feeling the hardships and heartbreaks that can come with old age. Both of their minds were and remain sharp, but their bodies had already started to fail them. Rob’s grandmother is especially amazing — she got her degree in interior design in her 50s, and worked in Manhattan (driving in each day) until she was 82. She specialized in ergonomic workspaces, and even when in assisted living, was asked to design the nursing workstations there.

In short, she kicks ass.

But the past years have not been kind. When I met her, she was already being affected by Parkinson’s, and a bad fall had led to a hip replacement, walkers, and a scooter. It was hard to hear and understand her in person, even more so on the phone. Phone conversations were like calling a distant planet — you’d say something, there would be a delay, and eventually a whispered answer. As the years have gone on, the planet’s orbited farther and farther away — still around, still doing its thing, but the signal’s become increasingly faint.

The signal’s fading now.

We went to see Rob’s grandmother yesterday — Rob, his sister Leslie, and I. She had not had a good morning, and we weren’t sure whether she was even up to seeing us at all. We went with his grandfather, and she was only able to see us for about fifteen minutes before it was too much. We each went in, gave her a hug, told her we loved her, and left — and then went downstairs to wait for Rob’s grandfather, who came soon after. Her kidneys are failing, and while she’s on new heart medication, it’s not helping. Rob was the last of the three of us to see her, and he’d said that he didn’t think she was even tracking or focusing by the end of his visit. In this case, his grandfather wasn’t being overprotective in keeping the visits short — it was literally all she could endure.

I don’t think she’s going to be with us for much longer. My gut tells me it’s a matter of days, now. Part of me hopes she will rally — that she’ll see her 90th birthday on May 13, that Rob and I will be able to tell her all about China when we return. But the bigger part of me knows that this is a fruitless hope, and that she wants to go quickly. She’s ready to leave us — not with anger or regret, but with grace. It’s everyone else who needs to abide and accept. And that’s going to be the hard part.

It’s me and Rob’s wedding anniversary today, and things are bittersweet for us. We’re very, very grateful that Rob’s grandparents were able to see us get married — we just wish that Rob’s grandmother could have seen our children…but see above, abide and accept.