I used to move fast, even when I didn’t need to. Now my pace is slower, but it feels like I notice more. I see the cracks in the wall. The way the light falls at noon. I listen to my own breathing. That

Tuesday. Grandma seems to be doing ever so little better. She's still not willing to eat enough but at least she's been drinking well and I even saw her smile a little bit again. I'm still a little worried