i see the old sheets, the ones with colors and flowers, the old poor worn out furniture. In the old days, they put on the walls family photographs, rare formal photos, in the formal outfit. There is still, in my grandfather's room, the picture of his father, dressed as a soldier, that died at his forties and was already thought to be old. His eyes are sparkling. My grandmother has a similar photo over the oven. Both fathers look so alike to their sons. But they are too distant.