My grandmother died, and my mother called me one sunday morning á
in the Autumn.  The way my mother told me about it, I hated her á
at that moment.  She sounded as if she had been waiting for the á
death of my grandmother.  I had lost a person close to me.  I á
felt guilty too as I had been bad to my grandmother of late.  I had not á
remained calm when she no longer understood everything so well.