If it had not been for our elderly neighbor, Johnson, I do not know how I would have survived.
She lived across the hall and had been there before Goldi and I moved into the building.
The morning after Goldi left, Johnson knocked on my door carrying soup.
She took one look at my face and said, “I can hear that baby crying all day and night. You need sleep.”
Before I could object, she lifted Leo from my arms with the confidence of someone who had raised four children.
From then on, she became part of our family.
She watched Leo when I worked late.
She sat beside me during his surgeries and held my hand when the doctor came out.
She attended every birthday and every school play.
Leo called her Grandma Johnson long before he understood that she was not related to us.
Yesterday, the three of us celebrated his 18th birthday.
