Glenda wanted to take a picture of me next to her Japanese maple. She said that she would probably have to move if I left because she couldn't take care of the garden by herself. She told me, "It'll be fine! The nuns will love you, you'll fit in perfectly!"

     I replied, "You don't have to live with me."

She couldn't imagine how I could possibly be so difficult to live with, and I promised to tell her what the difficulties were as soon as I found out. She died, quickly and relatively peacefully, with a friend shortly after our last conversation.