Today we visited my Mother and I picked her these flowers from her garden:
This is the place where I have spent all my summers until I was twenty, and lived there until I moved away from home at the age of 23 (the last summers I was working abroad for my studies).
My heart aches every time I leave this house, because I know it will not be there forever for me to visit. My mother is 91 and lives there alone. She is very healthy and cannot imagine leaving the house. I can understand her view. On a beautiful day it is like this: