We went and looked at houses again today. In the bedroom of one of them I found this mirrored wall and it is exactly the kind of mirrors my grandparents had along the wall at the back of their couch. They had alternating columns of black mirrors and regular with this type of fancy 70’s gold design. This mirror happens to be a combo black & gold.
When I was tiny and I was upset I’d go sit backwards on the couch and watch myself cry in the mirror. No clue why, guess my misery is entertaining. Or else I was observing so I could fake it if needed. My grandmother thought it was the cutest damn thing and brought it up relentlessly my whole life.
I just remembered, too, that she had a C-shaped scar about the size of a quarter she received from the edge of a mirror while reaching behind the couch for something. It’s a funny feeling to have suddenly such a vivid memory of a bit of her body that is long gone now.
Not to be a downer, I don’t feel sad.