Bravery

I noticed that her skin was paper thin. 
Tissue paper thin. 
Her blood vessels outlined, her veins bulging from her arm. 
Her skin no longer milky white, but now
freckled and stained with age.
She kept forgetting whether
or not she had locked the door. 
Click, click, click.
She checked seven times.
She wore a large wool sweater
as if ever breeze shook
every bone
and chilled all parts of her body.
Her hands shake
as if she were tying to hold up the weight of the world.
Her eyes now tired and waiting for an
ever lasting sleep.
My grandmother -  my beloved -
looks old.
She looks fragile.
She looks tired.

My grandmother never complains. She never would.
My grandmother is a fighter - my hero.