After I lit the Yahrzeit candle that morning (trying to think of mom) I drove to the bank and a senior crowd was there. They all couldn't hear and were belligerent and loud. One lady walked out. The manager, a younger woman who complimented me on my calves (I had been walking a lot) told me two seniors had yelled at her. It was a crazy environment. I suppose the seniors are scared and angry.
Anyhow, I was waiting in the lobby across from a lady who had my mom's eyes; suspicious, fearful, horrified, and judgmental (all at certain moments). They were her eyes for sure. There was a very primitive emotional state in those eyes. My allergies that morning had made it difficult to think of mom and here I was, doing a chore, looking at mom’s eyes opposite me in the raw.