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November 8, 2001
It was a busy Memorial Day. It’d been a long time since I’d gone home. It was Jennifer’s wedding: rehearsal dinner, late-night parties and all his family to meet.

This was also the last time I saw my Grandmother.

Memorial Day meant her traditional trek to the cemetery to place flowers at the markers. I accompanied her and learned, for the first time, her birth mother wasn’t buried in the family plot. The next day, we drove to Sterling to see her mom, now dead for 80 years. Grandma dressed in black. Her hat, shoes, gloves and purse all black.