I have been looking through family photo albums from 1965-1977 and have been reminded of Grandma's wigs! Her fastidious attention to her appearance. She retained that, and her dignity, all the way through her final years in the nursing homes. It was here, in these homes, that I first felt I had a relationship with my Grandmother. She was so immediate in her gratitude to see me. I felt vital upon arrival and inadequate upon leaving. On one of my last visits with her, it took Elsie nearly a half hour to realize that the person wheeling her through the halls was her granddaughter, "Cathy"; a name she had the habit of uttering with such elongation that it felt like pure longing, Caaaaa-th-eeeee. Well, on this visit, there was some Wayne Newton look-alike singer on hand, with whom, out of the most distant but most intact parts of her memory, she began to sing along. I myself cannot remember what Tony Bennett song it was, but sung, and deeply, she did, transported really to what must have been what my mother describes as the "hey day". It was then, in the prime of Elsie's communion with Henry that she gave her most public gift -- the lightness of laughter. He could get her to realize belatedly that she had been the brunt of a joke, and that slow dawning always brought her own laughter to tears. This excessive, unceasing humility was infectious and was something that she gave until the end. Elsie was never a victim, she was a catalytic converter. She had a strength that surprised us all, surviving Henry for well over a decade. It was here in a way that she emerged from his shadow, quick to friendship with her neighbors, sweet in allowing the few remaining men their amorous overtures, such kindness would attend her knowing smile to them. I am grateful for these moments, for having shared them with my Grandmother as a conspirator. Even though her life was long and full and her death, "inevitable", there is her spark that is gone. For that, there is no consolation, not even memory which has a habit to fix. For the surprises that Elsie perpetuated, a delight infused the space around her. That will never be adequately recalled for it depended on her presence; a presence I deeply miss.