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Perspective Matters
I was in a situation which should have been tense, but I was calm.
We visited a sick friend the other day. While sitting in their living room, I observed the two women wallowing back in their recliners, feet up, staring daggers at me. So I threw out a couple of questions to rile them even more.
Should I have been nervous? Uncomfortable? These women were in their fifties and at least a hundred pounds more than me and I’m about fifty pounds overweight. I’m nearly twenty years older, too.
Had there been a mirror in the room, it would have cracked, shattered into a million shards. Their Bette Davis eyes bored holes at me. Their mouths hid lips in a straight line edging toward a frown. I sat back in my favorite glider rocker, the one neither could fit into nor it support them. I felt relaxed and confident.
Their relationship was a bit confusing. I was told they were aunt and niece. How? The aunt said from her father’s side of the family. She had a father? Was he the one she threatened? I remembered her story, but chose to not remind her. She didn’t elaborate.
Now the niece says her shepherd is her emotional support dog. The two year old beauty shows no signs of bonding with the niece and no training. I had watched the poor animal try to pull her head out of the collar to get away from the niece. That dog needs…
