I'll enter the door and look for you. You will shout that you're in the kitchen, preparing dinner for us. I will kiss you on the cheek and my frozen nose will give you the thrill of the chill. ''It's freezing outside'' I'm telling you, as I take off my shoes and coat. I'll put my cold palms on your back and you would jump in surprise. You will hit me on my shoulder and maybe even add ''shit, your hands are freezing!''

I will smile to you and I present a book I bought for you, a beautiful book, like you like, a book for the winter.

I’ll put the book on the shelf next to the open fire, as you check if the food is ready. We will sit down the table and eat the bread you made, and the famous soup you made for us. I'll look on the book and feel calm, I knew I had chosen well, you love these types of books for the winter.

We will throw the dirty dishes in the sink and wash then the next day saying that the water was too cold to wet out hands.

I'll make myself a mint tea and a hot chocolate for you, with a little chili and rum. We will fold ourselves up in bed with a movie, you pick up my legs to you, and you find out that they are still frozen, they are always frozen.

You put them between your thighs and feel how they thaw slowly. You lean on my folded legs and I'll play with your hair absently. The movie could be exciting, or sad. I may cry, may laugh, and will tilt your head with my movements. Can be.

I'll turn off the television in the end of the movie, we got settled once in the bed, and then re-organizing ourselves to be more comfortable. Maybe we'll sleep spooning, maybe face-to-face, maybe in a cross-legged.

I will sink slowly into sleep, hear the rain pouring outside the window, the thunder calms me. The sense of touching you, even if just a small part of you, proves me your existence, and I know I should not fear anymore. I’m in good hands now, in loving arms, with you.

I think that the aging process is a terrible thing .... right, that's a natural process that happens to the body, aging is explained by shortening of the ends of chromosomes known as "telomeres", and once the telomeres run out – the cell commit a suicide, in a process called apoptosis, and dies. Like the body.

2 months ago, my grandmother collapsed at home, lost consciousness for an unknown time and when she woke up on the floor, she tried to shout for help - luckily, her neighbor heard her cries and went in through the window and called an ambulance. My grandmother has been ill for many years with a disease called Lupus, an autoimmune disease that is expressed in different ways with each person. Despite her illness of many years, until 19 years ago my grandmother was a strong woman, tall and beautiful - always wearing high heels, stylish leather jackets, trousers and stylish dresses, putting on makeup and always wore a pin on her lapel. A real European lady from the upper classes, like she was before coming to Israel. And then my grandfather died.

It happened when I was 4. I was the first grandchild of my grandparents from both sides. My paternal grandma and grandpa lived in a neighbor city to our city, but they just needed to cross a two-lane road to reach my house, it usually took about 20 minutes. Every Friday, my grandma and grandpa were coming to take me out to the nursery. On the way to the nursery, grandpa was holding my left hand, and grandma was holding my right hand with such a strong grip so I could not run to the road, although I've always been an obedient child - did what the adults told me.

On one of these Fridays, grandma, grandpa and I were on the way through the second road. Suddenly, I felt my grandfather's grip loosens, and the first thing I remember is seeing him lying on the sidewalk, his big glasses shattered and blood covered his face. Then I remember an ambulance, I remember they took me to my mother's work and a few days later all the adults went to the funeral and my parents explained to me that grandpa, my beloved grandpa, went up, to heaven for good.

He was an extremely loving grandfather. He would wake up many times at night to check if my diaper was dry, he would sing songs to me, he was proud of his first grandchild. I look just like him. I do not resemble anyone of my family like I resemble him. A copy of him, both in spirit, character and exterior features.

Since then, my grandma has changed. She was his queen, he spoiled her. They were a strong couple together, but separately - she was a wreck. Empty. And then again, he died so young, from such a terrible disease as lung cancer and he never even smoked one cigarette in his life. She was a tall woman, my grandma, and then she shrank, her strength gave his place to the sadness.

Just few months ago I was sitting at her house, when I visited Israel, I told her about school and all the projects I'm involved in and she said - so too bad he's not here ... He was so proud of you .... he could not contain his pride and joy of his first grandchild. My younger brother, now 19, was born three months after our grandfather died, and never got the chance to know him. He was named after him.

He would have been so proud of him, of my little brother.

And in 2 months, I will turn 24. I’m aging as well, that process will never skip on me.

This is the age when you start thinking about your future in other aspects. I took care of my education by putting myself in a super-long program like medicine. Now, thoughts about family and kids starting to grow inside me. I’m getting older.

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And in another note - I will like to see your comments, thoughts, ideas, negative and positive feedbacks on my blog! Everything is acceptable.