My mom just called me to let me know that my great-aunt Margaret passed away yesterday.

She was 90 years old, and the most gracious woman you could ever know. She never had any children of her own, but our family is huge (Irish and Catholic, you know how it is), so she took care of all us. She was a painter at one time, and I have a few of her pieces hanging in my bedroom. I hadn't seen her for about a year and a half because she lives in Los Angeles and I just don't get down there very often, but every time I talked to my grandma, I asked after Aunt Margaret's health and got the full update.

She had congestive heart failure, arthritis, and a host of other health problems, so she had been in a lot of pain for a long time. She had a good life and it was time for her to go, but it's hard all the same. I miss her already.