The eyes of this unknown woman reach out to me. I love her upon sight and wonder about the history encripted in every detail of her face. I imagine her to be my long lost grandmother, holding secrets of my ancestors that are just waiting to be released.
I trace her wrinkles lined across her sweet face and fall deeply into her blue eyes. The crinkles around her mouth break into a warming smile as she lovingly wipes the tears from my face laughing softly into my eyes.
I adjust her scarf and straighten her cap, while she gifts me with her 'babushka' that once had been rolled and crumpled around her neck. I hold this gift close to my heart, smelling the light fragrance from her daily use and years of wear that only a grandmother could have.
She invites me to her little room and I follow her slowly up the incline of the well worn wooden stairs. The heavy door unlocks with the turn of the key as my imaginary grandma opens both her heart and home to me. She serves me tea in a petite china cup with little cookies taken from an old cookie jar. Books are neatly lined on the shelf of a cupboard leaning against an uneven wall. A little day bed stands in the shadowed corner covered with a handmade quilt almost threadbare. She takes an old wooden box from a drawer and places it in my lap. Upon opening the box, I find brown antique photos revealing her life from an ancient past.
I hold her hand smoothing the creases of her apron while I sit at her feet listening to stories of loss, love, and gain. I try to memorize all of the wisdom imparted from her lips, and find myself telling her I never want to leave.
As in all day dreams, my eyes eventually focus and the imaginary room fades away. My heart aches for this woman I have never met and for the dream that never was meant to be. My imagined exchange with her lingers still as I wonder where she might be or who she really may have been.
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