The Simple Definition of Paradise
As a child, I struggled to recognize and remember people’s faces. I once mistook a stranger on the street for a member of my family and called out to him. Noise and certain strong smells easily overwhelmed me, while repetition brought familiarity and comfort, I could listen to the same song or speech again and again. Some of those repetitive patterns remain today, although I can now remember faces and read people’s expressions with confidence. But my parents’ faces were among the few I knew. I was born to them later in their lives, and whenever they smiled while eating fruit, wrinkles gathered around their eyes. To me, those wrinkles were never merely signs of age, they were how I recognized real happiness. I drew this especially as a memory for my mother after my first oocyte pick-up (OPU) (I will reveal the detail later not now). During those times, grapes suddenly came to mind, not only because my mother loved them, but also because, when I saw my follicles, they resembled a cluster...
