I visualized a scene without any further description.
Never underestimate how much readers can fill in the blanks.
But sometimes they have such vivid imaginations that, left to fill in the blanks, they imagine things that are counter to what the author intends. Then grow confused and irritated when the rest of the story doesn't bear out whatever it is they, the reader, have imagined. Or they interpret characters in a way that would leave the writer astounded if they knew.
Besides, when it comes to elderly ladies, not all age into some sort of stereotypical grandmother. Some are slim, still attractive, and in fantastic shape. They play tennis, they play golf. They dress well and go to the hair salon twice a month. Others are so frail and unwell, they need a walker to get from one room of their own apartment to another. As a result, they spend their days reading or watching TV. Others, not quite so frail, spend most of the day knitting, when they aren't leaving their chair just long enough to stuff their visiting grandchildren with ice cream and cookies. Still others are mean old busybodies.
So if readers imagine their own grandmother or someone else specific that they know—as ZroSkeerd hopes they will—and one reader fills in the blanks with an image of the grandmother that abused them for years as a child, and another reader imagines a nosy, gossipy, neighbor who poisoned someone's cat for peeing on their lawn
one time . . . well, there goes any hope of establishing sympathy. (Meanwhile, other readers, who had active, athletic, wealthy grandmothers may be wondering why the elderly woman in the story didn't defend herself against the attacker with one of the clubs in the golf-bag they have imagined in one corner of the room. And readers who had the ice cream and cookies grandmother may wonder why she didn't poke out the murder's eye with one of her knitting needles.)
So I maintain that the
best thing to do is to at least give readers just enough to provide a structure for their imagination to build on. It doesn't have to be much. (Or it can be a lot . . .it depends on the author's style.) It doesn't even have to be a description of the character herself. A walker in the corner, plus several bottles of medicine and a pile of mystery novels on the side table by the chair, may clue readers in to what they are supposed to be imagining, and they can expand on that to whatever extent they please without going off on the wrong sort of tangent.