Beautifully Dizzy
Click to viewCompassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destinies of others. You must either learn to carry the universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors.
- Andrew Boyd
She looks at me for a moment, her eyes filled with wisdom. She says, "Well, you are pretty." The first sentence I have been able to understand out of our lengthy conversation. She looks down at the seatbelt holding her into the seat. Sometimes it protects her like a hug, other times it is like a leash keeping her from freedom. She looks up and her eyes have returned innocent and distant. She mumbles about her seatbelt and asks if it is working, picking at the buckle. Her long white hair cascades neatly to her waist like chevrons on a uniform informing the world of her rank in life. She looks deeply into my eyes, for her conversation is real and her words make sense to her. When she finishes her sentence she smiles and awaits a response. I smile at her and nod which seems to suffice. She continues with her conversation. For some reason, I know she knows I cannot understand her. I know that she knows her language, which is a mix of the past and present, is foreign which maybe why she starts to mumble. On the inside is an intelligent woman just trying to escape. She looks intently at me as I smile and nod again. She knows the words, she knows her thoughts but she cannot make them communicate what she wants them to. She is rolled backwards mid sentence by a nurse. The spell is broken. When I look at the nurse she states that it is lunch time and wheels the elderly woman to a table. The elderly woman still talking to me though I am no longer in her view. The nurse puts food in front the woman. I walk in front the woman and smile. "The others get better food," she whispers to me as she smirks, eyes full of knowledge. I tell her it smells good, even though it looks like baby food. In a flash, her eyes turn distant and she starts searching for something on her plate. She finds the receipt and points to it mumbling. I tell her I have to go so she can eat before her food gets cold. She keeps mumbling but this time to herself. She no longer sees me as I wave goodbye.
I know she knows what is going on. I know she knows I am there to visit her. Even though her words made no sense, I could look into her eyes and connect with her. She was just happy I was there to listen.