My grandmother died early this morning. She was 93.

In April 2005, she suffered a massive stroke. Since then, she’d been confined to a bed in a nursing home in New Jersey, barely able to speak, unable to eat solid food, barely able to move one side of her body.

This was a woman who – although she was often a pain in the ass – was always very much alive. She was stubborn, very smart, much too overweight, loved food, never forgot a name or face, constantly interjected comments into conversations whenever she felt like it (particularly when she felt ignored), and engaged in selective hearing.

But she was my grandma and I loved her. And I know she adored me and my brother. And it was sad to think of her in the condition she was in.

I visited her last Saturday during Rosh Hashannah. She was in the hospital because she’d developed a blood clot in her leg and had needed surgery to relieve it. It was only the second time I’d seen her since the stroke. She looked about as bad as I’d expected. But she was aware. I stood by her head and stroked her hair. She couldn’t take her eyes off me. I kissed her forehead. I felt bad that I hadn’t visited her in so long.

Two or three days later, she had to go back into the ICU because her body was weakening. The oxygen levels in her blood were not where they should be, her heart rate shot up, and her body kept going into seizures. We knew she was rapidly deteriorating, and she died around 3:00 this morning.

Ever since she had the stroke, I hoped she wouldn’t last much longer. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her for the past year and a half. It wasn’t really a life.

So while I’m sad that she’s passed away, I’m also glad that she doesn’t have to suffer anymore.

My grandpa died at 94, and my grandma lived to be 93. So my dad’s got some good longevity genes. I hope he passed them onto me.

My grandma survived lymphoma, she survived a stroke, she survived numerous trips to the hospital. She lived into her nineties despite having chronic high blood pressure.

As my dad said to me on the phone this morning, “She was a tough old lady.”

Indeed she was.