Nobody knows what to say when somebody dies.
People that don't know her say, "Oh, wow, she was 98, she lived a good life."
People who do know her, can't believe something so small took something so wonderful.
People who were there this week, breathe a sigh of relief and say, "finally."
But there is no right or wrong thing to say.
Even the hospice nurse who confirmed what I already knew - even she said, "I'm sorry, she's passed."
And I am betting that she wasn't expecting what I said either. She probably did not expect me to climb over the back of my chair, perch at the head of Gramma's bed and say, "You did it Gramma!!! You finally did it! I'm so happy for you! So proud of you!" And then I stopped looking at her face, her beautiful but tortured face, and instead I looked up - the only place I could imagine her being, whispered. "You can be happy now. I love you."
But even I do not know if that was the right thing to say, because chances are, now that she can finally see again, she really wanted me to say, "Don't worry, I was just gonna clean all of this mess up."