Last Sunday I spent time wisely; I visited my uncle and Carlin. He’s turned another page, not a chapter, but definitely a page. Carlin wavers between reality and the world of Carlin which tells me she’s just fine because that’s the way my beloved cousin has always been. Many years ago, friends of my uncle deduced: “She speaks a whole different language, called ‘Carlin’.” I adore her, and always have. Both my uncle and Carlin care. They always have and they always will. Anyone who reads Half Italian will know.