Dear Gran,

I love you so much. I know you know that. I like to think we had a special relationship, but to be honest, I think all of your grandchildren feel that way. That says something about the kind person you are, and your generous spirit. I’ve never heard you say a disparaging word about anyone. I wish I could say that same about myself.

The reason I’m writing is because I have always felt horrible for not standing up for you that day. You had spent years taking care of Grandpa as his health failed, and you struggled with your own health concerns. That weekend trip to your hometown was such a treat for you. There was that slot machine in the lobby, and Mom convinced you to go out with her and play it. You always had a bit of a gambler in you, and you were having a ball. I sat there in the bar, waiting for you, and did nothing as I heard the young man come in from the lobby and call you an old bat, and make fun of your posture and your hesitant movements. He wanted to use the machine, and called you a hog. I sat there tongue-tied as I listened to him make fun of you in front of his friends and everyone laughing at his impression of you bent over the machine like a question mark.

I know you didn’t hear what he said, but I did.

Since then, I have never forgotten my failure to open my mouth and say something to shame him. To tell him how hard you worked, to explain the reason you were bent over so close to the keys was because your eyesight had all but been robbed by a relentless disease. To tell him that you were selfless, to describe how you were the center of our family and beloved by so many.

I wish I had the courage to say what I was thinking.

I’ve never forgotten that day.

I’m sorry.

Your granddaughter, age 36