My grandmother, Signe Cecila Fries Hanson, died only weeks from her 107th birthday. She lived her life completely to the end. Except for her last few days she was lucid and interested in people and events around her. She always had a good sense of humor and joked in a subtle way as we lifted her out of bed or adjusted her body.

She spent the last few months and weeks of her life sleeping a lot, much of the day, much of the night. Various things pained her, various parts. She could joke about that, too, sometimes. And she never lost her concern for other people, always remembering to ask about Kit’s mother, always saying "thank you" for any service given her. When she went into the nursing home, as a temporary respite for my parents, she said she thought she ought to stay there because taking care of her was too hard for her daughter Ruth.