“Alive or dead,” my grandma said, “I want to go home.”

We laughed then, because we were at the hospital and she was dying. There was a real chance she wouldn’t make it home, where she wanted to be. So we laughed, because it was that or cry. And she’d already scolded my aunt for crying.

I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings toward my grandma over the years. She was outspoken and not always kind with her opinions. She gave me bear hugs and slipped me c...