Gazing Blindly

I have a good friend, no, Great Friend, named Jan. Eight years ago this vibrant woman, with whom I shared a once-a-month lunch and hours of good honest conversation as she mentored me through my new experiences in school administration, became gravely ill. She ended up in the hospital, in a coma for a month, rehab centers for several more and then into nursing facilities where she has lived her life bed-ridden ever since. She has lost her sight but she can still "see". Somehow, when I walk into her room, before I even say anything, she knows how I am. When I am about to leave she always thanks me for the visit. I in turn always thank her for the time together, because when this blind friend "gazes" at me-and she does gaze at me- I know that I am loved.