Micro feelings

Midmornings Margie recognizes me many times. Afternoons seldom lately. A recent afternoon she was a zombie. Next morning she was lively. This morning I feel sure she knew me, squeezed my hands, appreciated a hug, but no longer asks for a peck of a kiss. And this morning for the first time a few tears slowly appeared, as if some feelings could not get out. How horrible to have your own self so frustratingly locked up.