My sister sat across from my grandma, video camera propped up, asking question after question. Trying to soak in what ended up being one of my grandma’s last days in her own home, talking with clarity for such a length of time. Breast cancer was swiftly eating her away, but the cancer was not touching her brain, her strength, her resilience. I don’t think anything could ever strip her of those things. As my sister taped her story, my beautiful, strong grandmother spoke these words in her thick German accent,

“He [God] took these broken pieces of my life and made a beautiful mosaic out of it. Not a clean cut, clear diamond. But a mosaic. And I am just. . . grateful.” Continue reading →