(w)hole

Coffee with milk.
Toasts with butter.
And bread.

My grandmother had the whitest softest hair I had ever seen.
Silky and translucid. Just as her wrinkled skin.
She lost her memory. The old one.
She was now young and worried.
She thought often of her children.
She was scared.
Until one day, she lost it all. Her fears too.
Life has its ways…

Silence became her willow tree and only her eyes could speak the language of her heart.
I remember the breakfasts she would serve me when I was a child.
Coffee
Milk
Toasts
Butter
And
Bread.
My heart was warmed and filled.
I will never feel again this kind of whole.
I was taken care of and I had no worries.
Grandma was there. She was my protector and my saint.

May now the angels rejoice with her presence. You are the lucky ones.
Please, don’t let her down.