The feelings I had while clutching the rails of that old wooden white cot, I forgive you for breaking my attachment to my dummy. My feelings about all those years have been rushing over my mind during the dark hours of the night. Memories can seem dull and confused during the activity of the day, but during the night they are crisp and emotive. You broke my attachment to my dummy, but those feelings of attachment created by suckling on the soft plastic were replaced by a reciprocal affection that would last the rest of a lifetime. I feel guilty that I could not share your final moments. Ignoring your protests, I left you several years ago. You had mixed feelings, you longed for the ongoing companionship that I brought you. I enjoyed every story and antic dote, the knowledge of the past which I gleamed from your wisdom. But our roles had reversed, I was your pacifier now, soothing the uncertainty created by the gradual onset of senility. I still feel guilty, but in life we never have enough time to satisfy all of our desires. I hope that my return with your progeny bought some happiness and contentment to the twilight of your life. I am pleased that both of you were able to share those formative moments. I was lucky that it was possible to again enjoy the recital of your repertoire of nursery rhymes, this time being accompanied in song by your great granddaughter. For most of my life you were my last grandparent, you always reminded me about that fact and insisted that I should treasure the opportunity to have a grandparent. I did Grandma. Love Donald