| I realise that this node title sounds a little morbid but all things considered my Great Granny Winifred died in rather a sweet way, I shall explain. My 'Granny Win' was my favourire granny (until the age of 18 I still had all 4 grandparents and 5 great-grandparents still alive so being my favourite was no mean feat), she used to make me nice food, put a spoonful of sugar in my lemonade (I didn't like the fizziness), play cards with me, watch Paul Daniels on the TV with me (this if nothing else is worth an MBE!) and even write my school book reviews for me. In fact she spoilt me rotten. As she went further into her dotage she suggested that to take the burden out of her aging daughter's hands that she go to live in an old people's home. No fuss, no arguments, no 'But I raised you !' guilt trips were placed on any of us - all she asked was a weekly visit and a regular supply of polo mints, with which we were happy to oblige. She was lucky enough to reach 94 years of age without losing any of her marbles (she was never actually the sharpest tack in the box, once beleiving laundering money to be the act of hanging washed notes on the washing line, seriously!) and never requiring the use of a walking frame, wheelchair etc. One day she came over a little poorly and was taken to the nurses room and put in a nice comfortable bed. When my mother went to visit her that evening, my granny was feeling quite poorly but was still in high spirits. She reached out and took my mother's (her grandaughter's) hand and said; "Jean, I've had such a good life, and I've got such a lovely family and I just want you to know that if I die today that I'll be so happy to do so here" She died later on that night. | 
