Touched and Spoken To

 Last month in my monthly visit to an assisted living community, I asked about Ms. D. who normally would always be us. I was told that she was in the hospital and would probably need to be moved to a community that could provide her with more care than they can offer. I was not surprised because she was growing frail. Yet, I was saddened. I always appreciated her cheery good will. I was told that she had a beautiful garden. I am not surprised.

Yet, this week as we were just beginning the service, I was surprised and delighted to see a caregiver bring Ms. D. to the service.  She was in a wheelchair, and appeared weak. I happily greeted her, and I placed a song sheet on her lap and pointed to the song we were singing. I then returned to lead the group in the singing of the beautiful old Thanksgiving hymns. I glanced at Ms. D. and I realized that she was quietly singing some of the words from memory. I walked over, gently placed my hand on her shoulder, and pointed each word out, and we sang together. Her voice was barely audible, but she was singing. Afterwards, she and I had a good chuckle. Her eyes were bright and she was smiling. My eyes were probably bright as well. Moments such as these are not uncommon in SpiritCare, and they are why I continue to volunteer at a few local communities. 

Before the rains began, I went into the back yard and played my flute. In the book, Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer writes that plants like to be touched and spoken to. I have been trying to interact more with the plants in my garden and it is a pleasurable thing to do. I do not know if they like music, but I love playing outside. On this particular day, the light was beautiful, and I noticed a small white flower glistening as it took in the sun. This particular plant has lived here longer than we have, and I finally learned that it is known as an African or fortnight iris. I think I see better when I play.  My flute teacher contends that music builds communities, and I think he is right. Fortunately, we don't have to be brilliant musicians for these connections to happen. I also believe these communities are made up of more than just humans. Earlier, I stepped outside to pick up the newspaper and to check on the plants in the front. There was a slight wind blowing. The wind this week has been interesting. The air has been warm, but cool breezes have been blowing through. While we cannot see the wind, the movement of warm and cool has reminded me of a Van Gogh sky. I paused to feel the wind and look around. I realized that there was a scent of heliotrope in the air. I was surprised as the one plant we have is not that large, but it is healthy and mature. I bent over and noticed a small caterpillar on one of the blossoms. It had eaten enough that it had taken on a pale purple hue. I had to smile. I did not have the heart to dispatch it, but I do need to keep an eye on it. I am learning that gardening is a balancing act, and not unlike music and pretty much all of life, it takes practice to learn the harmony. 

 

The light is beautiful this morning, and it is time for a walk. Do get outside if you can. Wonders are everywhere and should be celebrated.  

  

Joyful, joyful we adore you, 

God of glory, God of love. 

Hearts unfold like flowers before you, 

Opening to the sun above.  

  

Henry van Dyke 

Hymn tune: "Hymn to Joy", Beethoven, 

adapted by Edward Hodges

  

image: African Iris, San Leandro, 2015