She was a cheerful, chatty woman, and we talked for a long time about everything: Myriam, her Alzheimer’s disease, her funeral. Back when Juliette was a nurse, she had moved in with Myriam to take care of her in her final illness. She’d been thirty years old at the time, and she remembered it all vividly. “She used to tell me about all of you! Her grandchildren, and especially Lélia, your mother. She always said she was going to go and live with you.”
