What is your talent? She asked,. Her hands still held my shirt sleeve tightly. It was clear Grammy had no intention of letting go of it until I’d given her an answer, a good answer, a satisfactory answer.
“I don’t know “ squeaked out of my mouth.
She made me sit down.
“Everyone has a talent! I’m an artist. Your talent might be art. It might be music. You need to find out what you talent is.” she said.
Great. Clear as mud. Now Can I go Play?
“What is that black box in front of your face?” Grammy asked.
I changed the subject and asked about the time she was skipped right to 3rd grade. It was one of her favorite stories. Her face lit up, she could see clearly through the fog of dementia back to that moment at 8 years old.
I didn’t bother to tell her I think I found my talent.
Somehow I think she knew.