Turns out I am a freak show
"Can you believe she's eighty? Wow, you don't look that old." But I do in the mirror. I no longer walk more than five miles easily. My skin is disgusting. Other families allow me to be a part of them. My own has little or nothing to do with me. My Spanish is laughably bad. Local ladies in my age group just rattle along as if someday I'll know what they are saying. The kids giggle. Chuy asks his uncle "what does she think she is saying?" Many of the people in my daily encounters seem to think I'm okay. Laundry, including the owner, appear to appreciate my business. My several regular eateries greet me warmly. At Quack Burgers they know my usual order. I have made a conscious effort to create daily connections. I have a regular bacon smoking guy from Argentina. He waves and/or visits with me even on days I can't afford two hundred pesos for killer bacon. My taxi driver waves and smiles a greeting even thou...