I am 82 years old, 4 children, 11 grandchildren, 2 great-grandchildren and a 3 x 3 room in a nursing home where they left me stranded.

I no longer have my house or my beloved things, but I do have someone who fixes my room, makes my food and bed, takes my blood pressure and weighs me.

I no longer have the laughter of my grandchildren, seeing them grow, hug each other and fight; some come to see me every 15 days; others, every three or four months; others, never…

I no longer make croquettes, or deviled eggs, or minced meat curls, or knit, or crochet.

I still have a hobby of doing Sudoku that is somewhat entertaining.

I don’t know how long I will have left, but I must get used to this loneliness; I go to occupational therapy and help those who are worse off than me as much as I can, although I don’t want to get too close. They disappear frequently.

They say that life gets longer and longer.

So that?

When I’m alone, I can look at photos of my family and some souvenirs from home that I brought back.

And that’s all.

I hope that the next generations see that the family is formed to have a tomorrow (with the children) and give back to our parents the time they gave us when raising us.

“Taking care of someone who has already taken care of us is the greatest honor.”