it's captioned: Living Lab program, kids watching plants grow.
this was in the weekly post of the Master Gardner's The Real Dirt Blog. The focus of the post was "A short history of the Master Gardener Program" but here this pic was....seemingly incidental, but just amazed and delighted me. Kids, sitting, still, orderly, the plants out front of them, being watched as they orderly grew. What a STORY this could be...i could not stop smiling and then, NPR Weekend Edition Saturday. 2 cousins celebrate their childhood neighborhood by writing and illustrating a childrens book....Dream Street. Tricia Elam Walker the writer, Ekua Holmes, illustrator.
the day went on that way and somehow this is all still about letting questions be alive. how is unclear, but i know it is and so i just gathered the variety of things of the day and took care to note them as it went.
Jenny and Jeff were coming to bring Feed and i didn't know what else, so i just went to B Garden with one quick sled load and thought...this is a kindness to me. From me to me. my habitual way would be to think i didn't have time for that....when in reality, i would spend whatever time....waiting for them. a blank. and too, one less load toward completing. This FELT good. i finished and they arrived shortly thereafter. they didn't stay long and after they left, i thought about this. Small kindnesses. Kindness in general. Those questions, living in the palm of my hand, about meaning. About what has meaning and Value.
and suddenly....it switched over to the Slide Show. I saw Blanca. The Bath Lady. Sometimes it's not just a single slide, a still pic, but a short video like some of the tech gifted are able to put in their blogs, just short....and here it was...beginning with Blanca maneuvering Alz B into her bathroom. it had sound. For those who haven't gone that far back, Alz B is the mother of Bill who i worked for....both of them, individually, and when Betty began to loose ground to Alzheimer's, it became more. And went on through her time in the Old Folks Home until that night she died when her son Bill and i sat with her. and then walked the streets of Socorro in the night, through till dawn. Blanca appeared through Hospice. She arrived twice a week promptly. The Bath Lady. Alz B was mean. Angry. insisting she did not need anyone's help. short moments would pass and both would appear from the bathroom, Alz B all squeaky clean and Blanca to pack her bag up , wave goodbye and be gone until next time.
During the time Alz B was at the Old Folks Home i watched Blanca arrive there. In out, In out, residents went...how many a day?, Blanca the Bath Lady, preforming her Focused Efficient Gift of Grace.
When OCB, the Old CowBoy was doing his final time, Blanca appeared at his door via Hospice. I was so grateful to see that it was HER. She came once a week for bath and shave. He liked her. Even in the final times, he would flirt with her. Blanca sailed through. didn't miss a beat. it was an extraordinary kind of kindness. Kindness. That last day. It was supposed to be a regular bath day, but the energy had changed. She arrived and let herself in. Gathered the towels and wash cloths, soap, lotion, shaving cream and razor and arranged them on the bedside table. Instead of watching her, he pushed things away and kept going on to me how i needed to get his boots. We needed to go. To the ranch in Colorado. She was patient. Went to sit at his kitchen table, listening. I was sitting beside the bed, going on and on about how i couldn't do that. She walked over and watched and said "he's Ready." went back to sit at the table. her arms folded in her lap. Over the next while, maybe an hour, i watched him fade. Until a moment when i saw him looking at me from "behind himself" . I just sat. Blanca came over and said
now the bath.
while i called the Hospice nurse to come and Declare him, Blanca shaved him. she bathed him. She covered him. Blanca.
it's been many years. But all that is as clear as the moment of happening. And why. Why do i see it so clearly today?, clearer than ever before. Why do i see her. Truly as the professional that she was. Is. The Bath Lady.
How does it have to do with the salamanders and newts in the palm of the hand? and....to go further, how does it have to do with that boy who shot children LIKE himSelf in Michigan, who had drawn a picture that had startled his teacher Bullet and bleeding figure, but also the words Help Me. I watch, look, for reference to those two words. Help me. see none. maybe that morning it was too late for kindness. probably. but still, he wrote the words. Help me. No one. the school, his parents read them i guess.
and another small kindness for my Self. It's cold in the mornings now. Ordinarily, i would wait and wait after getting up till i could make self get moving to start the Tea water....get the tea bags, the brown sugar out of the cupboard . For a few days now, At the end of the day, i fill the tea kettle. Set out 2 bags and the jar of sugar. Ready. As i pass the stove to huddle at the Morning Table, i light the stove. Comfort, the Tea, soon. a kindness. to self.
so many things are simple.
