Our tired hands

I have spent the day with my mother.

I have had to do all the talking because she has become a very silent woman - quite different from what she used to be like.

I have read stories to her and we have sung some popular children songs - the ones she used to sing to me and my brothers and sisters when we were young children.  I started the songs and she finished them.

It is good to see that she still keeps part of her good memory, although she sometimes mistakes me for her sister, who is also called Pilar.

It is all so sad.