When my villa died last year, we all shocked. We have given her the best we can. We registered the arrival, sent the grocery, and took time for weekend visits, or just called to verify them. But nothing brought me back to the next part: I asked to move with us. I begged.
Initially, I was completely against her. I mean, it’s not sick. It is not a break. She gets a monthly pension, and her house is completely paid. It has options. Reducing the size of societies, treatment, anything.
But then the magic words said: “I will help all over the house. I will wash and dishes, whatever you need.“This made me stop. I work from the house, filled two children, and constantly chased chaos. After it seemed that there was an additional set of hands … attractive. So after a few long conversations with my husband, I surrendered and told her that we would move to help her in this step.
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