My grandmother just died. The mother of my father. It is sad and it is not. She was for me and my parents long time ago not from our world anymore as she was a vegetable, not capable of doing anything by herself. So it is not sad and even a relief, probably for her and certainly for my parents who do not have to pay a fortune to keep her alive in this antechamber of death where she lived the last years. It is sad because the last time I saw her was I think two years ago when visiting my parents and friends in Paris, I went with my mother to see her. As the time before she did not recognize me when she is the one who raised me because my parents worked a lot. I remember our breakfast paying cards together, our scrabble play on lazy Wednesday afternoons, our adventures in Paris well dressed to go shopping, the care she had for her beauty skin and nails, her impeccable way of wearing her dress, handbag and gloves, the whole body perching on high heels, she was to me a true lady that I admire and loved very deep in my heart. So it is sad to think that whatever you achieve in life, you’ll end sadly in a bedroom, dark, alone without even having a thinking or memory of it. Tears are rolling again on my face just by writing those lines but I truly wish she finds a new way to be happy where she flies now. I remember how many wonderful stories she told me, having had the privilege to watch the 20th century. Her father was a pioneer with airplanes in the East Europe, she spent her youth always in the move, traveling from country to another, having to adapt herself where her parents brought her. Approximate school years that she would eventually notice back to Paris where she had to re-adapt with a controlled scheduled, the little expat girl with her memory already full of images and faces, the children of her age would never probably have in their entire life. Then another unstable life, the second world war, met my grandfather, my father was born and 20 years later, here I was. I remember her preparing her trunk for holidays that she would make deliver to her holiday home in Brittany on the island. She always traveled “light”, a handbag and a magazine, my grandfather following religiously with his cig glued on his lips, and where they would stay 4 months. When they returned, there was always one present, of course, but also many new stories and It was the time of going back to school. And it went on and on for years until I made my own way. She kept her house as long as she could, long after my Grandfather's death but it came one day she fell and could not stand up anymore. Living alone inher house was not an option anymore and we had to place her in a house, you know, the one you wish never to go, where only people like you live. Though it is a nice one, very expensive, with caring and competent service, I know she spent almost the last years isolated. It's like my hamster who was used to live in the house free of cage. One day he made a big mistake and we had to put in in the cage and he died a few days later. I guess when you don't have any will to live anymore or no stimulation for your spirit and body, the only thing you want is to lie Earth as quick as you can. The last time I saw she did not even recognise me, thinking that I was a burglar coming to steal her jewelry. That hurt. Any way, I'm flying to Paris tomorrow, will stay a week, having the time after the ceremony to go and meet my best friends that i miss a lot. I think also what disturbs me is the fact that for the ceremony I will have to face people I didn't meet for more than 15 years. And the feeling that will come with it. I guess as usual I’ll be as closed as an oyster.My father asked me to do a speech, which I try to work on since two days without a big success. But I'll do my best, for you Grandma. So you know you will always be in my heart. Adieu, dear Grandmother.