A solitary life from the age of 22 can seem, to many of us, like a burden and an unnecessary pain. When she died at the age of 92, my grandmother had been a widow for over 70 years.Being her only grandson, she was particularly fond of me and I would, as a child, often sit on her lap as she wove life’s lessons into simple fables and stories.

She told me one even just a few months before her death twenty years ago.

I was driving her around in my car, when we stopped at a red light. As we waited for the lights to turn green, a lottery ticket seller approached the car and pushed a bunch of tickets in front of me. I tried to shoo him away but he would not go. Muttering under my breath, I waited for the light to turn green and sped away from that irritant as soon as it did. Read more of this post