An affectionate comment brings me to call the image of a door that opens to let me poke your neighbor to leave a cup of salt. Clear that we must leave the house, ring the bell and know how to wait to ask for what I need. Too much work would try to mount a salt at home, never to ask anything, only I know the time wasted on these issues.
And I return to feel the peace of Nana's eyes, believing that things were going well, it went bad ... and I learned that no bacteria, no bowel function.
And now I know that there are no vital signs monitored (or another) and bring flowers and enjoy distributing them in vases, meet balcony plants that were thought hopeless, buy new vessels and remove the sample that was, look in the mirror and see looming glamor of wrinkles and gray hair that resist outright all of chemistry in the whole world ... in short, that which indicates that the UCI was back, and I want to keep enjoy this life, mine. And come back.
and share.
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