They Sold the Antique Piano My Grandma Left Me—From Her Hospice Bed, She Made One Call

you simply endure because you have no choice.

Grandma Eleanor’s hospice room smelled like lavender and old books, a combination she’d insisted upon despite the staff’s protests about hospital protocol.

“They try to make everything smell like antiseptic,” she told me on my first visit, her voice still strong despite the oxygen tube in her nose. “I refuse.continue reading …