84 Days.

Today was day eighty-four.

A couple weeks ago, the phone rang in the middle of the night. I jumped out of bed, grabbed the phone only to find out it was a wrong number. It took me hours after to fall back asleep.

The last time the phone had rung in the middle of the night it had been my dad with the words I had dreaded hearing.

I will never forget the adrenaline that burst through my body as I sprinted to the phone. I will never forget the wave that crashed over me and overwhelmed my entire being as I heard the words come out of his mouth.

I will never forget those long days at the hospital, wondering, waiting, watching, wanting nothing more than for her to be comfortable and the tears that dropped from my eyes onto her face and her body as I sat next to her.

And I will never forget that final walk into the hospital that early morning or the final walk out arm and arm with my dad hours later.

I get scared when we look at pictures and H points in each and every picture to grandpa but blankly stares at me when I say grandma.

"Grandma." I say shoving my finger onto her face. He points his finger next to her where grandpa is and says, "Boppa."

"Where's grandma?" I ask. And he points at grandpa and says "Boppa" again.

Finally, when my heart is about ready to give up, "Can you give grandma a kiss?" and he leans across the page and kisses her face and I realize that he is just stubborn and little and I'll never let him forget.

Which makes me remember that it's only been 84 days and this is really just the beginning.