I've called home every day since I got back to my apartment and the news about my poppi is good. He might be getting out of he hospital as I type. My dad didn't know. But one of my aunt's is going to stay with my grandparents for a few days, so that's a good sign. I just... You don't know how much begging I did. I guess it's called praying. And here I am crying again, in some kind of fog. Fog because I have to hold it in for hours at work, try to function, although even strangers can read me like a book.