my paternal grandmother’s birthday is today. her name was originally ‘maria’, anglicized to ‘mary’ (as so many were so many others) when she arrived here from italy around 1924 (http://www.ellisisland.org/). she died at the age of 93, about 6 years ago. she had sort of reconciled herself to the reality of her cognitive decline, as evidenced by her selling her house and moving in with my brother’s family a couple of years prior. he made her a little apartment in the basement of his home, with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen area, and living room. that day, she got up in the early morning as she always did, made her cup of instant coffee in the microwave, sat down at her little kitchen table, and died. my brother heard her fall and ran down to help, but it was obvious that she was already well on her way to see God, so he just held her there on his lap on the floor until she passed. isn’t that the best way to die, while living your life?