Circle of Life

So, I can't believe this, but today's offering will be the SECOND hommage of sorts to an elderly stranger that died anonymously. Ever since we've been here, (two friggin' years plus already), in addition to all the crazy Russians and aspiring actors in our neighborhood, there was also this elderly homeless woman. I'd say she clocked in at around 80 or so. 80-ish, Spanish speaking, largely toothless, moving at a snail's pace, she and her lil' dog sidekick had established some type of niche here on ol' Sierra Bonita Ave.
I'd kind of figured out her routine by now. She'd set up some type of shop across the street, between buildings, back by our laundry room. During the days, she'd casually make the rounds to all of the garbage cans around the neighborhood, looking for food remnants, and perhaps the bottles and cans to recycle. My wife is into all things olfactory, and on more than one occasion, I'd seen this woman in our garbage, trying to salvage the last scraps of a candle, bottle of perfume, or something else Bubba may have been done with. Similarly, our building gets the occasional single rose blooming outside our window, and much to our chagrine, she'd often come by and help herself to it. But she was remarkably happy. Always smiling. I'd try and say hello in broken Spanish, and she was always receptive.
Make no mistake, she could be annoying. Sometimes, the garbage cans would be right outside our bedroom window, and she'd be rattling bottles, muttering incoherently and moaning at the crack of dawn. But I always respected that on Friday's, after the garbage had been picked up, she'd drag the cans back to behind the building, one at a time, inch by inch. It was like it was her way of "earning her keep" for what she'd been able to salvage.
Why am I bringing her up? Because it occurred to me last week that I hadn't seen her for maybe a month. And I still haven't. As such, I can't help but think that she finally passed on, anonymously in the street, behind an apartment building, somewhere. I find it interesting, the degree to which I'm saddened by this likely fact. I don't know her backstory whatsoever. In her prime, she may have been someone's wife, a factory worker, a professional, you name it. Anything's possible. Regardless, it just struck me as sad, albeit realistically inevitable, that this would be her ultimate fate. For what it's worth, senorita, someone DID notice.