stella was the mom...

stella had been bathed

a short while before i arrived

at the rehab facility

where she was receiving therapy.
she was soundly sleeping.

so as not to wake her,

i made my way over to a chair

in the corner of her room

and sat with donna,

one of stella's beloved care-givers.

donna is very easy to talk to:

she is fun and funny,

loving and caring,

and,

most importantly, very kind.

stella counts her as a blessing.

~@~

the longer we sat and talked,

the more nostalgic i became.

donna mentioned

she had seen a photo of jack

i had posted to jeda's facebook wall

on her birthday.

i chuckled.

me: you know,

when i was growing up,

there weren't any other kids

in the neighborhood.

so, i played with jack.

he was my best friend!

donna (looking over at stella):

and stella?

me: no, jack was my best friend.

stella was the mom.

donna: oh.

me: don't get me wrong, 

i love and have always loved

stella,

but jack was my buddy...

while we did our thing outside,

stella was in the house

tidying,

making us coke or sweet tea in ball jars,

and preparing dinner.

donna smiled.

~@~

 yes, most definitely...
jack was the kid, and 
stella was the mom.

from my little-girl-perspective,

that's how i saw it.

stella was a good mom to jack and me.

she had a hard job keeping jack in line,

but she did it beautifully.

she took care of him,

and

she took care of me.

with both of my parents
working long hours,

i was a latchkey kid.

i wasn't allowed to answer the door

but was allowed to go to jack's and stella's house

if they were at home and didn't mind.

thankfully they were home a lot,

and

they never made me feel

like they minded my company.

over the years,

jack taught me how 

to play basketball,

to air up my bike tires,

to shoot a bb gun,

and

to form political opinions.

stella taught me how

to crochet a chain,

to cross-stitch,

to make hot chocolate,

to play tunes on her piano,

and

to behave like a classy lady.

jack and stella were my

proverbial

village
on the lane.

it takes one,

you know.

~@~

as i looked over at stella,

i noticed her

head was sliding

off the edge of her pillow.

so, i walked over to the side of her bed

and began to rearrange

her pillows.

me: hey, stella, it's dani.

stella: hey, dani.

me: is this better?

stella: yes.

me: do you want a drink of water?

stella: i think i do.

as she took a couple of sips of water,

donna began to rearrange

her sheet and blankets.

donna: are your heels

getting sore, mrs. davis?

i sat down the cup of water

and moved to the foot of stella's bed

to raise her feet while

donna placed a pillow beneath

the lower calves of her legs.

as i lowered her feet

i rubbed one of her heels.

stella: ah, that feels good.

~@~

i crawled onto the foot

of stella's bed

and began to gently rub her heel.

donna brought a jar of cream

over to me.

after greasing my hands with it,

i commenced to massage her feet...

first her heels,

then her arches,

and

lastly her toes.

when i got to her toes,

i began to feel really emotional.

i took notice:

they were worn yet soft,

they were curled and crooked

yet functional,

they were in need of a pedicure

yet showed signs of having 

had one recently.

stella's feet began to divulge

to me

who she really was.

each individual toe

spoke to me and reminded me

that stella davis was 

a humble servant...

to her husband,

to her mother,

to her children,

to the patrons of their

dry-cleaning business,

to her church,

and to her neighbors.

all at once,

i found myself

in a very intimate place

with this woman

whom i have loved and admired

most all my life.

~@~

so as not to break,

i quickly turned and 

looked over at donna.

me: does stella have any toenail clippers?

donna: no, but i have some

fingernail clippers in my purse

and a file.

here, will these work?

me: i think so, thank you.

i stood up and looked around

the room for something

to place beneath stella's feet

to catch her nail filings.

~@~

after i clipped and filed,

i found a washcloth

and dampened it to wipe

off her feet.

when i came out of her restroom,

donna looked at me

and crinkled her forehead.

donna: that better be warm,

or she will fuss at you!

at that,

we both laughed.

i returned to the restroom,

ran the tap until it was very warm,

re-wet the cloth,

and resumed my place

at stella's feet.

i gently washed,

dried,

and

recovered them

with her sheet and blankets.

~@~

last sunday,

God blessed me...

by allowing me to bring pleasure to,

by allowing me to remember,

by allowing me to experience a precious,
most intimate moment with...

this woman,

this mother,

this neighbor

i hold so dear.

love and God's blessings,

dani xxx