I got a phone call from my dad on Saturday saying that my Gramma Lola was taken the hospital and was more than likely not going to make it through the night. Gramma had fallen a few days ago and was so bruised and beat up and her body was losing the fight as you can see from the photo.  She is 91 years old and has had a full life so I didn't feel like she was being robbed of any good years or memories and was finding peace in it. If it was her time, I would understand. I asked dad to please go in and tell her that I loved her even if she didn't hear it. I put out a plea for prayers for her and my mom and the whole family on Facebook. I got word from so many folks that they had included gramma in their prayers.

Sunday morning I got word that when my parents got to the hospital gramma was alert, said a few words and ate. She wasn't supposed to make it through the night yet alone speak or eat. The doctors told my folks that this type of thing happens frequently and that it would still just be a matter of time. She would more than likely just lay in bed until it's time. This morning I found out that my uncle Gordy went to check on her and she was not in the room. He feared she was rushed back to the hospital but them found her in her wheelchair in the dining room. She asked him how he found her and giggled. This woman amazes me. Gramma has always been a huge supporter and believer in me. She used to have us put on shows in her basement before we could open Christmas presents. She is part of the reason I am who I am.

Keep the prayers coming. I know from experience how much they help. I can't thank you enough. I am blessed.