No Followers: DAY TWO

IN the Old People World, I taught my __ off today. Hard day.
At Memory Class, two new people walked in. One was a woman, born in 1971. She couldn't spell the word "green." The man who accompanied her told us that she has had two brain tumors, and surgeries. Her name she can spell: Nancy. She is petite and pretty. One would never guess how much she has suffered.
Humbled me right away.
"Death is the greatest teacher of all life," writes Michael Singer, in "The Untethered Soul ." Can you imagine having to relearn your childhood's skills? Then, even to show up to a round table of unknowns, and to sit, graciously, as others speak and stuff their papers into plastic folders, organizing their little lives, while you, colossal sufferer of all those gathered, spectate in silence?
My petty woes, my flabby mind, body, soul, have not come close to experiencing such trauma and loss.
I can see how far I have to go. Well, not really. Who ever knows how long the road on which one must travel? It will end, of course.
I have moved today the way a gila monster moves. I am in camouflage. I am my own reptilian statue.
1/4 a centimeter, but at least I have lived today to tell my tale.
God bless all Nancies.