The imagery of sight
The narrator describes her mother's condition in the hospital and her wishes. She paints a vivid picture of her mother's hospital ward when writing, “She said this in hospital, the place not entirely pleasant – a private room, windows-ammonia-washed looking out to a tree branch on windless days, an ivy-covered.” The narrator’s description depicts the sense of sight to the reader.
Imagery of smell
The sense of smell is depicted to the reader when the narrator says, “Someone had sent greenhouse lilies, suffrage white, to their favorite cause celebre, lilies now stuffed in a hospital pot intended for urine or bile. She said she had never known them to have that smell. This had blessed her, she said, the smell of lilies."
The imagery of hearing
The conversation between the narrator and her grandmother depicts the sense of hearing to the reader. The narrator says, "She sat in the chair knitting, like Madame Lafarge waiting for heads to drop. She talked, and she talked. She did not know who to blame, she said." The talking between the narrator and her grandmother goes on for several hours and days, which plays a critical role in aiding the reader to be part of the conversation.
Imagery of sight
The description of the narrator’s dead mother depicts the sense of sight to the reader. The narrator says, “Before she died, he would come around, or he would not, but at the viewing, he stayed a long, long time, wigged and ready. Beside him, mum lay like a dead offering in her simple box, lavender Votes for Women sash across her small, unquivering bosom, her button-up and gloves buttoned up her stiff elbows, her hair a' la pompadour."
