Last night, the phone rang at 4 am, but I didn't hear it. It was about my grandmother, who has been rushed to the hospital. Things are tense and touch-and-go right now, and who knows how this latest health scare is going to end, but it made me realize something else.

I've reached the age of 22 (and almost 23) without encountering phone calls in the night, despite my fear. There have been at least two, but I've never heard them, and only one of them was to announce a death, that of my grandfather at the age of 88, five years ago. I am an incredibly lucky and blessed individual that I have grown up knowing all my grandparents, and that at 80+ years, three of them are still with me. I don't know how much longer this will be the case, but I do know that I am very thankful that they have been in my life, and that I've gotten to know them.