I have had the most beautiful opportunity to learn, love, and adore a sweet soul over the past 6+ years. This lady is a confidant, a friend, and someone I hold so dear to my heart. I was introduced to Ms. Clare as hired help as she dealt with dementia and Parkinson's disease. As time as progresses, I still get to see Ms. Clare a couple times a month and each time my love for her grows stronger. Beyond my relationship with her, I am blessed to also call her daughter such a dear friend as well. As we go throughout the campus, I get so giddy when people ask about my mom and sister (Ms. Clare and her daughter). Sometimes I correct them, sometimes I smile and answer the questions as if we are immediate family. Regardless, I feel honored that someone would think of me so highly.
During our times together, Ms. Clare rarely says a word. Her expressions, though, say more than she ever could say with her mouth. If she is awake when I arrive, I can typically get a smile which warms my heart to the core. Very rarely these days she will ask how I am, but when she does, it is so special. I know she always cares, but the words don't often come out.
Yesterday I knew I wanted to share this journey with her. Because she doesn't speak much at all and when she does they are very quick and basically salutations, I have confided in Ms. Clare for many years. I tell her what I am thinking and her eyes offer their support, approval or discontent. Let me tell you, it is fairly easy to know what she is feeling by her beautiful eyes. As I explained to her what we were researching to see if the option was viable, she went from staring off into space to looking directly at me like I had eighteen heads. This made me giggle, but that was her, you always know where you stand.
When I finished telling Ms. Clare how everything works if it goes well, I then asked for her support. She had gone back to looking at something else and seemed pretty disengaged. I asked her yes or no many times, always offering her a pause to blink or tell me how she felt. Nothing. Maybe this wasn't the right time to tell her or maybe she wasn't interested in learning more. Maybe she didnt't think it was a good idea. I don't know. I explained further how we will not proceed if there are any risks to my health but that we have to try. Again, I asked her yes or no with pauses. Again, nothing.
In hopes to get a rise, I said - fine, do you just think I am flipping crazy? With that she turned looked straight at me, blinked her eyes (which is usually a yes), and gave a very faint smile. I confirmed that I am very crazy, but we all know that and that will never change. Then, looking into her eyes, I asked her if she would support me on this journey. Yes? No? Yes? As tears welled in her eyes she blinked after the second yes. I was beyond touched. Ms. Clare doesn't speak much but less than that does she show emotion. I got pretty emotional, thanked her, kissed her, wiped one lone tear from her right eye and thanked God for bringing this woman into my life. The verdict was in - I am crazy and Ms. Clare is supportive. I must say we got a few stares from the other older folks around but I could have cared less. The short experience we shared just then was more than I could ever ask for.
The quiet bond between us is something I will cherish forever, as is the moment I had with my dear, sweet Ms. Clare yesterday.
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