When it Rains.

I’ve been super lucky that at 87 and 88 years old, both of my Grandmothers are healthy and living on their own.  I know it is a rare thing and I am incredibly thankful.

Meme, my mom’s mom, decided to give up driving this year because she just wasn’t comfortable behind the wheel anymore.  Other than that, they are both ridiculously mobile and healthy for being two old chicks.  GramCrackers, my dad’s mom, is still as feisty at 87 as she was at 67. 

Anyone that meets her knows, this a blessing AND a curse.

Saturday, they were both at Finnegan’s birthday party, talking and laughing and having a great time.

Sunday, they were BOTH in the hospital.  There is really nothing in the world that can take the wind out of your sails more than getting a phone call that GramCrackers had fallen down the stairs at her house.  But then, eight hours later, an emergency call that Meme felt like she was having a heart attack completely sent me over the edge. 

We didn’t sleep much Sunday night. 

Gram apparently skipped a step and went tumbling down ten or so stairs.  She has three broken ribs and a broken scapula along with a fair amount of bumps and bruises and scrapes to go along with it.  She’s incredibly sore and they want to keep her for nearly a week.

They are still running tests and trying to figure out just what happened to Meme.  The tests are {thankfully} all coming back good so far.  She’ll be coming home tonight.

Thankfully they are both at the same hospital, so visits have just meant an elevator ride and short walk.

So there is that.

Send good thoughts, please.  Meme and GramCrackers could certainly use them.