My favourite memory of you, Nanna May, is when I went to visit you in hospital about a year ago. I felt like a Very Bad Granddaughter and wanted desperately to make it up to you for not having been to visit in a while. So I asked you if there was anything I could do for you.
"Gosh, yes, there is actually," you replied.
"Yes?" I answered.
And you requested that I clean your teeth. A simple task. Of course I could do that, I told you, and I wondered how I would help you walk to the sink.
You moved your tongue around your mouth then, and popped your teeth out into your hand.
As you passed them to me I grumbled, "Well that makes it easier then."