I just saw my grandmother. Well. I just saw a lady who, from behind, looks exactly like my grandmother. At least what I imagine my grandmother would have looked like if Alzheimers hadn’t sunk its fangs into her head.
More and more I have these vivid daydreams. I image chance encounters and casual conversation on my way to work. I imagine running into her while she takes a short stop to observe the new merchandise at the corner flower shop. Of course, exchanging a few words with her in such situations can only happen in my head and if I don’t dally to long in such fantasies, these vivid bouts of imagined life bring me joy rather than sorrow.