She took good care of me today with hot servings of homemade chicken soup, endless cups of medicinal tea, and the constant plea to rest. She cleaned the house and took out her treasure boxes, sharing her favorite things from the past: a card from a brother, a poem from another, and a favorite picture of her father. Her kindness filled our home today and filled my heart with the sweet knowledge that it was, indeed, okay to rest. She lent me a favorite book and begged me please read. I finished it just now and am waiting the return of my daughter and her Dad from a revival meeting I've been forced to miss. The house is quite empty without them.