Peter T. - a lovely poetic start to this touching and thought provoking thread. I was lucky enough to have a last meal with my sweet old grandmother before she died. I have written down that memory for my kids, but I hope it's appropriate to share here, as well:

Many Counted Blessings

We sat in the sun-drenched front porch of your home, you and I; a circular room, just big enough for our table and a few comfortable chairs. A pretty nurse brought us wonderful plates of food - fish - I think it was, yes Cod, certainly … with boiled potatoes, stewed tomatoes and green beans, warm soft rolls and butter.

We laughed and told stories all through lunch, while outside the New England Spring brought us an early glimpse of summer … so joyous it was! It poured through the windows and spilled across the floor … warming your back, and showing brilliant the daffodils blooming in the garden just below the window. You had tea, and I drank milk. You laughed and laughed and conjured memories, with a little prodding from me.

"What's this?" you asked, still smiling from our last story and pushing a bit of potato onto your fork …

"That's potato, Nana," I told you.

"Well I can't tell if it's fish or potato 'til I get it into my mouth!" and you laughed again. "Isn't it awful to go blind?" … still chuckling and leaning in closer as if it was our secret you said "Well I guess I'm lucky it isn't all over my lap!" It was, but I didn't tell you.

Popping the forkful into your mouth you spoke your final word on the matter "Oh well, it all goes down to the same place anyway," and you laughed again! We both laughed again.

We laughed because you gracefully accepted the conditions life had placed on your poor tired body. We laughed because you could relive the sheer joys of your long life through the telling of the tales - as many counted blessings.