Looking into the Living Room

I'm looking into the living room right now. Grandma is sleeping on the sofa. She's sleeping soundly, and silently. So at ease. She is, and so am I.

I think about her often. How many more afternoons on the sofa will I be able to witness? How many more afternoons on the sofa before she can't even walk from her bedroom to the living room sofa? And what happens when I discover that no one lies on the living room sofa any longer? Will the house be the same then?

Enough. I shouldn't disturb the peace of the living room. I must stop looking into the living room, and let Grandma lie on the sofa.