For some reason visiting my grandma was hard yesterday. Seeing her room made me feel awful. The woman who used to run the world now lives in a small bedroom in a caregivers house.

I never could catch up with her all my life, now she goes to the bathroom next to her bed. It made me fee really weird. I need her. I need her advice and I need her guidance. Even with Alzheimer's I still go to her for support. Their isn't much dignity left, but I still respect her, I can't help it.

After all the crazy times, friends, family, money, houses and lovers do we all end up sleeping in a hospital bed, a few of our possessions on top of some body's dresser, in a small room in a care facility? Not me.