just more important

We pulled up in her driveway, and the smile was still there. My brothers, dad and aunt were all there to meet us, and help get her out of the RV and into the house.

She lit up when my smooth-talking brother walked to the back of the RV and told her he was going to dance with her. His charm definitely works on my grandma.

I asked everyone to help me unload the RV. One of my brother's said he couldn't he had work to do. I wanted to yell and scream.

Instead, I nicely and quietly explained that I have work to do, also. But I took days off to drive our grandma back, because somethings are just more important. Then I walked out to the RV.

Everyone quickly joined me and helped me unpack things. We got her settled, and most everyone left. My parents and I were still there, but had moved into the kitchen as she slept.

She woke up in a panic. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. How could she get to the bathroom or eat? She couldn't do this on her own.

I assured her someone would always be there with her. My mom, or dad, or aunt or me. Someone. She relaxed a little as I brought in her favorite sandwich and soup that my dad had picked up for her.

She gave her dog a few pets before I kissed her goodnight, and headed back to my life.

It's hard to concentrate on work and friends and the boy, when I know she's slipping away by the day too far away to quickly stop by.

I'm heading back down tomorrow to see her, once my friend has checked in to her conference hotel. And hopefully my friends and the boy understand that spending time with her right now is more important to me.