“They are for your memories,” I said although I wanted to say ‘hell, yea, many more’ but somehow restrained myself.“Yea, I’m sure they are...’t for your pleasure,” she added sitting down.“Huh?” I looked at her in mock surprise.“Do you really want me to say it?” She asked turning her face toward me.“OK, one last photo. Just stay that way,” I quickly said as I wanted to change the subject.I moved her hair off her shoulders, focused the camera and took a photo of her face and clearly visible. I wasn't quite sure how to handle thesituation. I didn't want to start a fight with her. I simply repliedwith an "oh," poured myself a cup and sat down at the table. I longedfor my own kitchen. I guessed that a good part of my depression was tied to simply beinghere. I wanted to go home. I had no idea what time Sam planned ongetting up. I had to eat something and get myself to work. "Would youlike some breakfast Aunt Alice?" I asked her."I thought I told you to call me Mom?" she. More

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