And I wonder how it feels, as I watch her sitting alone in age-induced isolation. She is wearing a well pressed, light pink floral shirt and white pants. She looks small, delicate and vulnerable; a child again, her life, turned full circle.
I wonder if she is lonely as everyone talks over her, around her and looks past her. It is as if she isn’t there. I myself almost didn’t notice her sitting right in front of me. Except her walker with its bright red wheels presented an obstacle that required manipulation.
What magic hides her this way?
I determined to see her and upon observation found her beautiful, with the same brilliant blue eyes as her granddaughter.
Then she slowly blended away again into the background.