A Lovely Lady

Today I drove a lady home from the hospital. A precious little lady, who calls everyone "sweetheart", soft white hair like cotton candy, and a smile as big as the sky above. She's frailing now, but the pictures on her walls are proof that once upon a time she was a beautiful sturdy young woman, with a handsome husband. Her heart is kind to the core. As I helped wrap her in a soft cotton robe, she looked at me with uncertain eyes. I touched her hand and rubbed her shoulder to reassure her that I would take good care of her. Driving away the autumn sun was dashing between tree branches and reflecting through the windows of our van. We passed a park, with a small lake and saw children playing. As I drove I could barely keep my eyes on the road. She was a dainty soul, her lips were dry, and she looked longingly out the window. She spotted some yellow and purple pansies, and commented softly on how lovely they were. I asked her if she thought it would be a good day to sit on a swing in a garden, in our wide brim hats, running our bare toes in the cool grass and sip iced tea? As she wet her parched lips with her tongue, she replied "boy wouldn't it!".