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She kept an immaculate home. My grandparents built the house themselves in the 1970s. When my grandparents passed-away my mother renovated it so I could live there. I remember sitting in front of the bedroom closet as Grandma pulled down things to give me—knowing she was dying and wanting me to not go back to New York empty handed. I cried thinking this was the last time I would see her. She never talked about it, but she said, "I don't feel sick, but I am sick." I face that closet every night.