A glass of milk fell from her hand and broke
Her son yelled at her and left the room angry.
She wrote him a small letter.
And when her son returned and found her asleep on her chair as usual and the messenger in her stone. He took it and read it:
My son and my beloved and my eyeball: I am sorry ... I have become old.
My hand trembles and my food falls on my chest.
No longer elegant beautiful pretty smell! !!!! Let me know.
I'm not stronger to wear my clothes and shoes !!!! Help me.
Do not take me to the bathroom! He grabbed my hand.
And remember how much I took with you so that you could walk.
And do not suffer from the weakness of my memory and the slowness of my words.
My only joy of conversation now is to be with you
Your jokes were a joy to me when I was young
Do not deprive me of your smile now.
I simply wait for death !!!!
I was with you when I was born !!!
So be with me
WHEN I DIE !!!!!!!!!!
