Love for little things

I can't believe that Aunt Fila is taking care of me. She's a 94-year-old lady. This morning, she made me some tea. God knows what she spiked it with. After I drank it, I felt like a hard reboot. I took a 2-hour nap and woke up feeling like a new person. It's strange how she has more zest and love for life than I do. She pays attention to every detail, manages everything with ease. Just last week, I threw away meat three times because I either didn't eat it or didn't store it properly, causing it to spoil. She uses everything to the fullest. Yesterday, I brought her a plate full of grapes, and she made half a liter of wine in a little pot. She knew they would go bad since she can't eat that many grapes. Today, she made a jar of tangerine jam. We had to throw away 10 kilograms of tangerines because they were infested with fruit flies, but she picked out the ones that were still good and made a single jar. To be honest, it tastes delicious. Where does this woman find so much love for the little things? Who would go through all that trouble for just one jar? If you can't even make preserves for the winter, is it worth the effort?! What's so twisted in me? I wish I had the patience and love for small things like this woman has.