Friday, December 17, 2010

Anne in the Basement

Anne was quite a woman.  More than a woman.  She was larger than life.  What I mean by that is that she embraced life readily, with wide eyes and a wider, infectious smile.  And she was most certainly fun to hang with.  She didn’t care what others thought, and I mean that in the good way.  She was comfortable in her own skin.  I must say, it was so refreshing to be around someone with such self-confidence, and I’m not talking about arrogance.  I mean, who doesn't have insecurities, right?  Anne didn't, or at least she hid her insecurities from others, and if the latter is indeed the case, I admire her all the more.  I’d be lying if I said her self-assurance and can-do attitude didn’t attract me to her, but we always maintained a good friendship, nothing more.

I guess my use of the past tense makes it sound like she’s passed away, huh?  I suppose she's dead, in  a way.  Nowadays she spends all of her time knitting caps and sweaters, rocking back and forth in a rocking chair, alone in her basement.  She won't talk to anybody but just stares into space or at her needle point.  I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s a different person now.  Did she experience tragedy in her life?  Is she suffering from some congenital disease that is just now kicking in?  Nobody knows.  It's funny how someone can go on in this life, at least physically, and yet be dead to the world.  I miss Anne.