I spotted her as I stumbled blearily to the bathroom this morning.
It was hard to miss her, she was dead afterall! Lying on her back, multiple legs in the air.
No more scuttling off into hidden cracks for her. She had the consideration to die right beside her grave - all I had to do was turn on the tap and down the drain she went. A few minutes later she was buried in coffee grounds and I sipped my morning latte and thought about her hard life.
For despite the fact that I had found her belly up, Louise had been a fighter. She had to be. Her husband George had been brutally taken from her, leaving her to parent their 214 children all on her own. Despite the daunting task, she persevered. She worked tirelessly but still had to face the heartbreak of loosing a number of her children. Periodically she would come across one of them, lying stricken and flattened on the cement walkway in front of the apartment building. She had a hard life, but she is at peace now, reunited with the love of her life and the children she lost.
At the risk of sounding irreverent, here's to hoping the rest of her children - and their children too - join her soon!