Living Like Eleanor: Finding Humor in Life’s Hardest Moments

Last week, I dropped everything and flew to Iowa to be with my grandma, Eleanor, who has recently been moved into hospice care. It wasn’t a trip I had planned, but it was exactly where I needed to be.

I spent some of the most meaningful days by her side—holding her hand, listening to her stories, laughing, crying, and simply soaking up every bit of her essence. What struck me the most wasn’t the sadness of the situation, but how shehandled it—with more humor, grace, and charm than I could ever put into words.

Even as she lay in her hospital bed, struggling to breathe and dealing with unimaginable discomfort, she had everyonewrapped around her finger. Nurses, aides, doctors—everyone stopped when they saw Eleanor. And not just to check vitals or fluff pillows, but because they wanted to. Her light was undeniable, and she made every hallway feel a little warmer, every room a little brighter.

One day, she had been going through Kleenex after Kleenex—her lungs filled with fluid from the cancer, making her cough constantly. After using up what felt like a million of the little boxes, someone finally brought her a full-size box. She looked at it, smiled, and said, “Well, I guess I finally qualified for the big box!” We all burst out laughing.

Later that same day, after another one of her hilarious one-liners, I jokingly said, “Grandma, you are full of shit.”

In true Eleanor fashion, she tilted her head, raised her brow, and said, “What did you say?”
“You’re full of shit,” I repeated.

She grinned and replied, “I heard you the first time.”
Still smiling, she added, “What do you want me to do—cry over spilled milk?”

That was Eleanor. Kind. Sharp. Funny. And even in the most difficult moments, filled with joy.

I’ve since returned home, but I haven’t stopped thinking about her words, her laughter, her light. And one thing keeps echoing in my heart: Live like Eleanor.

Live with humor.
Live with grace.
Live in a way that people light up when they see you roll down the hallway.
Live so fully that even on your hardest days, you can still find a reason to laugh.

My grandma is, without a doubt, the kindest human being on the planet. And she taught me something no book or podcast ever could: Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. And joy doesn’t have to be loud—it can show up in quiet moments, even with a Kleenex box in hand.

So here’s to living like Eleanor.
To finding humor in the hard.
To choosing kindness over chaos.
To loving big, laughing often, and never crying over spilled milk.