Broken friends.

Alice Sanchez is staying at Mirada Hills for just a little while. She recently had a hip replacement and can't go home until she's out of her wheel chair and up on a walker.

She's 86 years young. Mrs. Sanchez has ten children and "too many grandkids to count." When we met she told me that she was a very busy young woman and we laughed.

The other day she caught me crying in a chair at the end of the hallway. It wasn't a whole lot of tears and it's not something I've done often during this experience... but this day Mrs. Sanchez found me shedding a few tears.

We had a few really bad days.

When I walked in my aunt's room she was sleeping. She was peaceful. It was the most relaxed I had seen her in several days. The tears I was crying weren't of sadness or fear but of relief. I was so relieved that she was finally able to get some rest that my heart burst and made me cry.
Alice rolled over and gave me her sweet smile. I smiled back and asked her how her day was. She ignored my question and put her hand on my shoulder instead. "You'll be okay. She's sleeping now." That was it.

I watched Mrs. Sanchez roll around the corner.

I've come to find that I somehow fit in quite well with the little broken community here at Mirada Hills. Although the residents here are sick, some may think they're strange, and some are even forgotten... they have all managed to bring me comfort. They make everything feel okay when you have to step out of the room for just a moment to shed a few tears.

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