Henrietta

Today, H is 86 years old. I know I’ve been saying she is 86 for the past couple of weeks, but hey, when you’re this old what’s a few days?

She is going through a depression thing lately and if I didn’t recognize it because I suffered with it some in the past myself, I would swear she is just being melodramatic. Bless her heart, John and I brought a little potted plant into her room this afternoon and gave it to her and she started crying. EVERYTHING sets her off. Good. Bad. Indifferent. It doesn’t matter. She will bawl if you give her half a chance.

Yep. Depression.

Here’s what really sucks. Tomorrow is her wedding anniversary with deceased husband, Marcos. 58 years.

Oh, yeah. Tomorrow will be particularly sunny around here. *sigh*