I have evolved to the Blanche DuBois stage of my life.
Not the descent into madness that only a Tennessee Williams character can experience. But the part where I rely upon the kindness of strangers.
But, in my case, friends.
Since I broke my ankle, every day tasks take on a patina of difficulty. In some cases, impossibility.
Simple jobs like cooking or bathing take more timing and balance than a Cirque du Soleil silks act. But they can be done.
Some, can't.
Because I cannot get my clothes to my laundress, my maid, Dora, has been washing my clothes and hanging them to dry. She is here only one day a week. The clothes are hung on Friday. Even though they are dry by the afternoon, I have had trouble figuring out how to drag a basket out to the line, unpin the clothes, fold them, and get them back in the house.
And that was my problem this week. On Sunday afternoon, I had given up. I was going to wait until Dora returned this coming Friday.
On Sunday evening, I decided to take a photograph in the front court yard. When I opened my door, my clothes were sitting, neatly folded, in a laundry basket. Topped with a green Easter egg.
You already know I raised in a household where there was no Easter Bunny. And I knew immediately who my secret benefactor was: my land lady.
I have long styled myself as a rugged individualist. Probably why I call myself a libertarian.
But this injury has taught me a bit of humility. To recognize my limitations, and to be thankful for the friends in my life.
Grace note: When I opened the door, the first thing I noticed was a fledgling weaver finch cowering in the corner behind the basket. When I moved, it flew to the top of the basket -- right next to the Easter egg. One of those moments, I wish I had a camera with me. For a moment, I thought my land lady was St Francis -- in addition to being Florence Nightingale.
Not the descent into madness that only a Tennessee Williams character can experience. But the part where I rely upon the kindness of strangers.
But, in my case, friends.
Since I broke my ankle, every day tasks take on a patina of difficulty. In some cases, impossibility.
Simple jobs like cooking or bathing take more timing and balance than a Cirque du Soleil silks act. But they can be done.
Some, can't.
Because I cannot get my clothes to my laundress, my maid, Dora, has been washing my clothes and hanging them to dry. She is here only one day a week. The clothes are hung on Friday. Even though they are dry by the afternoon, I have had trouble figuring out how to drag a basket out to the line, unpin the clothes, fold them, and get them back in the house.
And that was my problem this week. On Sunday afternoon, I had given up. I was going to wait until Dora returned this coming Friday.
On Sunday evening, I decided to take a photograph in the front court yard. When I opened my door, my clothes were sitting, neatly folded, in a laundry basket. Topped with a green Easter egg.
You already know I raised in a household where there was no Easter Bunny. And I knew immediately who my secret benefactor was: my land lady.
I have long styled myself as a rugged individualist. Probably why I call myself a libertarian.
But this injury has taught me a bit of humility. To recognize my limitations, and to be thankful for the friends in my life.
Grace note: When I opened the door, the first thing I noticed was a fledgling weaver finch cowering in the corner behind the basket. When I moved, it flew to the top of the basket -- right next to the Easter egg. One of those moments, I wish I had a camera with me. For a moment, I thought my land lady was St Francis -- in addition to being Florence Nightingale.
8 comments:
Just another of the many angels hanging around to help when necessary. Mary
I'm sure this last favor is a result of the good Karma you've been spreading around town.
Some think good fences make good neighbors, I don't. Kindness and consideration go a long way.
Saludos,
Francisco
true friends are treasures who will be there when you least expect them, to give you a hand or help in any way they can. you are fortunate to be surrounded by so many.
have a great day!
teresa
Do you remember the Bunny Rabbit cake I made? I sprinkled it with shredded coconut for his fur. Also we hid Easter eggs in the house if it was raining. Or is my memory wrong ? Maybe I did it for Ryan.
That was really thoughtful of you landlady to do all of that for you.
Mom
Oh how I remember with loathing those days of helplessness. One thing that helped was a little walker with a seat. I rested the knee above the broken foot on the seat and there was room for a book on the seat and I could hold a cup of coffee in one hand and carefully push and roll into the tv room, set the coffee down spin the walker, lower myself down to the couch and...dang! the remote is just out of reach. Oh it all comes back--so exhausting! You are a model of cheerfulness. You deserve the egg.
Mary -- I am amazed at the acts of kindness coming my way.
Francisco -- Wherever it is coming from, I certainly am basking in it.
Teresa -- I am glad they are all here.
Mom -- Yes. We colored Easter eggs and you hid them. But no Easter Bunny for us. And I do remember the cake. If you recall, it was the inspiration for my first story at 4.
Christine -- I am living those same tales. I get things together, scoot them into place, sit down, and discover I need to do two or three more trips before I can eat -- or read -- or watch a movie. Maybe, by the time it is healed, I will have the routine down.
Amigo you have helped many people - sometimes payback is a wonderful thing - you deserve it!
It is a special grace to accept help when you need it. You do the person offering the help a great kindness.
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