She's like clockwork
Everyday
6:45 PM
Ding ****
"Can I have an orange?"
I shake my head.
"Not until 7:00"
I respond automatically.
She nods, and scoots away.
I close the door,
and wait for tomorrow.

I leave her empty plate at the table
Waiting for her second arrival
To ask me "Where is my food?"
Her mind skipping, her own inner rival.

"My friend just died a couple of days ago.."
She starts, her eyes on the verge
of wet sorrow

"I went outside with another friend,
and when I came back
she had died."

I nod my head, and rub her shoulder
I don't know what to say.
I just listen

"You know, if God wants someone you
can't stop Him. You can't
tell Him 'No.'"

She looks me directly in the eyes and
I can see my reflection
in her irises.

"No. When God wants someone you
let him take them because
it's what's best."

She breaks eye contact and mournfully
stares at the table,
dabbing her eyes.

"She had been going downhill, and now
she is in a better place but...
I miss her."

I nod once more, and glance across
the table, where an empty place
has settled there.

She sits in her throne
Two wheels sprouting like wings
Holding the seat aloft
And steady
I gaze at her wrinkled face
A tablecloth in my grip
And wait.
Wait for a tune, or a yell
Or maybe even a throaty giggle
But... nothing.
For once, her eyes shine clarity
Her breath relaxed, hands steady.
Her lips move.
"You're doing a good job." She says.
She smiles kindly. A smile one would
share with perhaps,
a young child, or an old friend.  
I stare for a beat longer, finding myself
Speechless.
Who had she envisioned making the table
As I had been? What memory has cleared the
Internal chaos
To procure such kindness brought upon
her lips?
Had it been a memory of one of her
daughters? Possibly her son? A lover?
Does it matter?
The words "thank you" tumble out
of my mouth as I finish making the table.
I look back
At her once more, and watch as she "adjusts"
the table. Her hands are shaking, and a giggle escapes.
I move on.