Gabriel
Nothing to be nervous about. Nothing to get dressed up for. No reason to trim my beard. I had cleared my first month at Spring Hill Ranch Rehabilitation Center. Family visiting days happened every two weeks, and took place in the big common room in the old barn. Chairs and tables were set up and scattered around the big room, a long folding table was set up along the wall with cupcakes and cookies and treats that the residents baked themselves, along with 2 liter bottles of cheap generic soda and a stack of paper cups. Artwork that residents had created in the art therapy group was displayed on the walls, and a pen was set up in the corner with some of the farm animals as a petting zoo to entertain the children who came to see their relatives.
I grabbed a cupcake and retreated to
