"My Grandma Lydia took short walks with me when she would come to visit from Canada. I was not very old. We would walk down the street from our small cramped apartment, turn left down another street and walk to a little house she would pause and admire. She would say each time how she wished she had a house like that. Her house wasn't very nice. I knew it saddened her. I didn't know what to say, except inside I determined someday I would buy her a nice house. Ever so slowly we would turn around and walk back to our small cramped apartment. She lived for years in her unpleasant little house and we lived in our small cramped apartment. Somethings just didn't change from wishing, hoping and wanting. I just wished those slow dear walks with her would never end. Read more...