There is a woman at work who has made even my worst days better.
I can’t tell you her name, but I can tell you that it has been incredible to see how taking care of someone can change them. She is almost 90 and in tremendous pain. Her husband and friends have died. It hurts to walk. She is a stitch.
She comes in three times a week. I can see her pull up from my desk. At first, we would have someone go out to meet her just to make sure she wouldn’t fall on her way in. Now it is a bit of a social habit. She always beats me to opening the door, but she grabs my hand and interlocks her fingers with mine. Even with a cane in the other hand, her steps are uncertain.
She owns a marina and spent her life sailing the seas. She says that the marina is no place for a woman like her, and it has been two years since she sat wearing her big floppy hat overlooking the ocean from her beach house.
“I am dying to get to the beach, Kait. Do you have any vacation days coming up?”
I have lost track of the amount of times she has told me that we take good care of her. I think she misses companionship. When I fold laundry in the back, I pray for her treatments. I want her to be able to move more freely. I want her to see the ocean and wear her big floppy hat.
It is amazing to see what simple actions can do.
Taking a hand and walking alongside.