On Being Invisible

I’m older.  I work here.  I live here. I pay all the utilities, half the rent, most of the edible groceries not made of sugar.  I keep my house clean and pay someone to help.  I turn off lights left on and watch TV only when necessary.  I have my own friends and don’t impose on my family.  I don’t complain much.  I make food that is good for you and most often eat it myself because I put things like onions and garlic in it and vegetables.  I like them in my food.  They’re healthy and good for you.  I make my home comfortable and people in it know they’re loved.  I keep things light and make laughter priority.  When things get hectic I take as much as I can take being there’s so much drama.

I sometimes ask if anyone wants breakfast.  I used to ask often but didn’t get an answer so I only ask at certain times now.  As of today, when I asked my grandson if he wanted breakfast he growled and turned away from me and never did answer me.  There was light conversation between he and his mother.

When did I become invisible?

I didn’t get an answer so I sat in a chair and waited to see if he would acknowledge me.  He left and never even said goodbye.

When did I become invisible?

His mother never spoke to me.  It was like I wasn’t here.

When did I become invisible?

I guess it’s time to leave.  I’m no longer needed here.  Or wanted – it seems.

Perhaps I’ve worn out my welcome.

My puppy licked my hand.  She knows I’m here.  Perhaps she’s the only one that sees me.

Perhaps I’m not really invisible after all.

No wonder some people love animals more than people.