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When she sees them she has to focus: Now let’s see, who is this…? It might take her a while. Because it’s difficult to accept,for instance, that abuelita still walks for her. To accept her presence, like last thursday morning at the peak of the rush hour on crowded BART.There she was, like a superimposed image on a photo, there she was between the suits and briefcases, The Chronicle, New York Times, the lap computers. An etheral presence. The light radiating from her made it impossible to concentrate on details, colors, clothing, what was she wearing? Her smile, concluded Reyna María jumping out at her station. I’m not going to tie myself in knots about this. I’m just going to be happy she came to me this morning, let me see her. For she has been dead for decades.........................