Five Senses

I wear my grandma's wedding band. When she passed away, her wedding band was passed on to me. When I first wore it, the sadness and loneliness attached to it were palpable. Such a personal possesion had captured her innermost feelings.
My grandmother had seven children and could not understand why none would take her in and care for her. When she stopped feeding herself regularly, her wedding band started slipping off her finger. I didn't understand why. It never occured to me that my grandmother was losing weight. She told me of another ring she wore to keep the wedding band in place. I still didn't understand.
I saw an article the other day on clues to know when to help an aging parent: untidy hair, stains on clothes, untidy house, clothes buttoned improperly. The list went by the five senses: what to look for if they can't see, can't hear, can't smell, can't feel, can't taste. I wish I had been more aware of the signs, made her last years more hopeful, more joyful so she would have passed away peacefully.
I wish I had used my five senses to detect her failing grasp on life.