by Carolyn Thomas

When my daughter Larissa flew home to ‘babysit’ me after my heart attack, I could tell that she meant business.  No mother of hers was going to put her through this kind of stressful drama ever again, and the kitchen was where she decided to start in reorganizing my entire life.  The first thing the darling child did was to go through the big pile of printed material about heart-healthy lifestyles that they send you home with from the cardiac ward.  She underlined, she took notes – and then she went to work. keep reading