Sixty-five thousand questions.  Who are we? Who am I, pinned down by this mysterious illness that fluctuates and dies down, flares-up and disables, makes me feel like a kaleidoscope - a myriad different colours that change shape at every move and shake.

I remember the smell of freesia as I sat in the wedding-car in my bridal veil and dress. The perfume filled the car...creamy white Freesia and Stephanotis. Where did the time go, forty two Autumns ago?  All the heart-beats, all the breaths, a thousand kisses deep.  Dear JM, where are you now?  Among the stars, gone too soon.

'Ciao, un grosso bacione'.