She looked uncomfortable. The pillows stacked under her head and not her body put her at an odd angle but she was high enough to see her television.
Her family gathered around her bed watching an old black and white movie featuring her when she was a young dancer during the Harlem Renaissance. At age 96, this was the first time she had seen herself perform.
On the screen she moved with a fluid grace. All long legs and lithe body, her feet tapped out a jazzy beat. A smile creased her face and her hands fluttered to the same rhythm.