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Vienna, January 2, 1995

 

Today while I was in the bathtub, I felt the uneasiness for the first time. A certain sadness in the walls, a draft that I had not noticed before seeped inside me. Something is falling apart. I have not been able to sleep since I arrived. I read until dawn and I walk around the house all day drowsy. I’m scared.

 

Vienna, July 12, 19995

 

I returned a few days ago. Yesterday, Elli told me she is going back to her house in the village. Every time she gets fed up she threatens to leave, but this time it’s true. She arrived at the house during the war and she has worked here for over forty years.

Omama will have to leave the house this summer, she’s eighty five years old and can no longer live alone. When we call my mother she is always nervous and making plans. Yesterday she spoke about taking her to Mexico. The tone of my grandmother’s voice tells she wants to stay.

 

Vienna, July 13, 1995

 

Today we visited a nursing home surrounded by large trees. Omama’s sister went with us. They told me that when they were little girls they lived only a few blocks away and that there was a meadow here where they used to play. My grandmother remembers where every piece of furniture was in that house, where to reach out to turn on the light. That was over eighty years ago. I know she has made her decision.