Memory Well: Heading for Cheyenne Again

Back around the time that I was born, my grandmother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  Not a deal-breaker - she was with us for another 49 years, but it meant that (since she lived in the southern end of the state, and all the good hospitals at the time were in Salt Lake), we had annual trips up to "the city" for the first part of my life. There's an intersection on the freeway in Salt Lake where if you take the correct cloverleaf, you head back towards Washington (that's Washington, UT) and home, and if you don't take the correct cloverleaf, you're bound for Cheyenne.  Guess which cloverleaf Grandpa took 75% of the time?  Would it be too big of a hint for me to mention that Grandpa was also notorious for knowing about "little shortcuts?"  But he always got us home, eventually.

Anyway, I told you that to tell you this...  Grandpa and Grandma were together essentially forever.  You didn't think of one without the other one popping into mind, like Mickey and Minnie... well, more like Ralph and Alice, but you get my point.  Once Grandpa left us, Grandma was still there, but it was obvious that she was missing part of her soul.  And when her time was finally winding to an end, she felt that Grandpa was coming for her, to take her back home, but the days stretched out to weeks, just waiting.  Existing, but ready for that next phase - eventually impatiently waiting for that next phase.  On the day she did finally complete her journey, it seemed for two or three hours that she was looking past the living, reaching for someone only she could see, but it seemed to take forever.  Finally, we realized what had happened... she was waiting for Grandpa, and he'd gotten lost on that blasted off-ramp to Cheyenne.  But nonetheless, he did get her home, eventually.

The start of the wait....that's Grandma, second from the left