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My step-grandmother had surgery today, to remove a tumor in her lung that fortunately seems not to have spread anywhere else. The prognosis is as good as it can be, given the diagnosis.

She married my grandfather when I was just starting high school. Bonding over the piano helped us to hit it off right away. (She’s self-taught, and has written some of her own songs.) She comes from a small family, and it was a big adjustment to marry into a large one—there are nine of us in my generation of the Graves—but she fits right in. She’s got a good sense of humor, and a fairly thick skin, which seems to have come in handy from time to time when dealing with Grandpa. She’s a pretty straight shooter, unafraid to be honest. I admire that about her.

She’s in some pain, but she and Grandpa seem to be optimistic. They’re not sure how long she’ll need to stay at the hospital, but I expect she’ll want to go home as soon as possible. After all, someone needs to keep Grandpa in line.