Exotic yet ordinary

My grandmother has been diagnosed with follicular lymphoma. My grandmother. The woman who wears magic glasses and adores Elvis and used to play Nintendo games in the family room for such long stretches at a time her butt would go numb. The woman who helped me bake one of my first cakes and no-bake cookies and fixed me fried Spam sammiches and lots and lots and lots of fried potatoes. The woman who collects frogs and angels and had The Hobbit on Betamax and would read Little Match Girl to me before bed and let me sleep in the window seat of her bedroom when I visited. She has follicular lymphoma. And if I say this to myself enough times, I might start to believe it.