I've known her all my life, since she would take me on after dinner "fat" walks around the block, her same light blue tennis shoes setting the brisk pace. I'd occasionally run to catch up only to have her smile back at me and tell me, "boy, you're gonna have to keep up if you want to walk with grandma". We wouldn't talk much because it was about exercise, but it's funny how we try so hard as little kids to catch up to adults. And, before we know it, we leave them behind.
She's 80 now and Parkinson's has replaced my grandma with an unrecognizable woman. The hands shake uncontrollably, her eyes battle to stay open and the head hangs as she searches her memory for something that no longer exists.
I know she's had a full life and I laugh more and think more because of her. But, I already miss her and know that they'll be no more walks.