I am used to losing the people I love most. When I was in the sixth grade, my grandmother died from a cancer-like disease. In less than a year she went from being the stern yet vibrant and nurturing matriarch of our family to a bedridden invalid trying to ward off death. Everyone in our family was devastated after her passing. For days, I secretly chided my mom, uncles, grandfather and other relatives for their sorrow. Didn't they know that my grandmother, Josephine Forde, the pint-sized dynamo who evoked respect from local thugs, organized block parties and trips, and made sure I got the best from Sears could not be gone? The doctors made a mistake... Here's what you had to say: Adrienne commented via Facebook: "One word...Prayer." Patrice wrote via Facebook: "It's not easy as it sounds, but prayer does help."