At that moment, it was like someone was showing a family filmstrip in my head. I saw Nana at my baptizing. I saw her at my fourteen dance recitals. I saw her bringing me roses and beaming with pride. I saw her tap dancing on our kitchen floor. I saw her pointing at her own wrinkled cheeks and telling me that it was from her that I inherited my big dimples. I saw her playing games with us grandkids while the other adults ate Thanksgiving dinner. I saw her sitting with me in my living room at Christmas time admiring our brightly decorated tree.

I then looked at her as she was...and I cried.

I knew she would never see my final senior dance recital. I knew she would never see me cheer for another football game. I knew she would never sit with me and admire our Christmas tree again. I knew she would never see me go off to my senior prom. I knew she would never see me graduate high school or college or see me get married. And I knew she would never be there the day my first child was born. This made tear after tear roll down my face.

But above all, I cried because I finally knew how she had felt the day I had been born. She had looked through what she saw on the outside and looked to the inside and saw ... a life.

I slowly released her hand from mine and brushed away the tears staining her cheeks, and mine. I stood, leaned over, and kissed her.

“You look beautiful.”

And with one long last look, I turned and left the hospice.

我以为我从来就不了解她。她仿佛离我很遥远。当然，我爱她。从我出生那天起我们就爱护彼此。因为母亲难产，我生下来便头部受伤，面貌丑陋。家人和朋友对我这个畸形婴儿不屑一顾，他们都评论说我看起来多么像一个蓬头垢面的足球运动员。但是，她没有。祖母认为我很漂亮。看着怀中丑陋的婴儿她的眼睛变得光彩夺目，幸福万分。这是她第一个孙女啊，真漂亮，她说。

在我高一期末考试之前，她去世了。七年前，她的医生就诊断出奶奶患了早老性痴呆症;七年前，我们家就成为这种疾病的专家，然而，逐渐地，我们还是失去了她。

她说话的时候总是断断续续。一年年过去了，她说的话也越来越少，直到最后一个字也说不出了。偶尔能听到她说出一个字我们就觉得运气很好了。那时我们家才意识到她的一生走到终点了。

她去世前一个星期，身体就完全不能自理了，医生们决定把她送到收容所。收容所。进到那里面的人没有活着出来的。

我告诉父母我想去看她。我必须见到她。我抑制不住的好奇心战胜了压抑勇气的恐惧。

在我请求两天之后妈妈带我去了收容所。祖父和两个姑姑也去了那里，但当我走进奶奶的房间里，他们都在走廊里止步了。祖母坐在一个靠近她床的松软的大椅子里，无精打采地坐着，闭着眼睛，嘴巴麻木地张开着。吗啡使她处于睡眠状态。我的眼神快速地移动，窗户、花卉以及祖母看人的方式上。我艰难地接受着这一切，心里明白这将是我最后一次见到祖母了。