“What do you see when you look in the mirror, Nana?”
She closed the oven, slowly stood, then turned and looked at me quizzically, brushing away a stray hair that had fallen over her eyes. “Well … when I look in the mirror, I see … my face, of course,” she said matter-of-factly.
Frustrated by not getting the response I was after, I wanted to say more. But being so young, I lacked the ability to fully convert my thoughts into the right words.