perfectly imperfect...

when i saw this 

precious photograph of charly's 

 grandmother's tiny, imperfect 

hand 

in hers,

i smiled.

i knew a little of this

most perfect gift 

she was holding...

~@~

my parents divorced 

in the spring

before my freshman year.

mom wanted to lease a condo 

on the river, 

but the new complex was full.

so, she put her name on a waiting list 

and began looking for a place 

for us to live.

her company's physician 

heard she was looking and 

offered to let her rent 

a house he owned 

on hi-y drive.

when i heard, 

i was thrilled...

as i was friends with wendy,

who lived right next-door
to the house.
we moved in the week 
before school was to start.

always thoughtful and kind, 

wendy offered to let me 

ride to school with her.

again,

i was thrilled...

as i hadn't ridden a school bus 

since second grade 
and was nervous 
about having to do so.

"are you sure your mom 

won't mind?" i asked.

"not at all," wendy assured.

so, for the next three months,

every morning,
mrs. monsen took us to school
stopping 

at the bakery or hardees 

making sure 

we had breakfast. 

every morning 

for those three months

 i sat 

in the back passenger seat, 
talking to 
and laughing with wendy
and her mom... 
all the while
 secretly, in awe

paying close attention

to mrs. monsen's hands
as she drove us.

i remember the first time
i noticed something different
about her hands...
it was the morning 
of our first day of school.
mrs. monsen started her car.
on the radio,  
kenny rogers' and dolly pardon's
"islands in the stream" 
was playing.
wendy asked her mom 
to turn up the volume.
it was
when she did so,
i noticed
arthritis had attacked 

and mangled her hands.

they were so tiny and so deformed.

i didn't know how she was able 

to do anything with them.

however, she did.

over time i learned 
she continued to do it all;
she

worked, 

cleaned,

cooked, 

and, yes, drove her car... 

like there was nothing wrong

at all.

and.i.never. 

once.

heard.her.complain.

~@~ 

one of the condominiums
came available
in november of that year.

before we moved,

i wanted to do something 

special for dear mrs. monsen.

(she probably didn't realize it,
but she had made 
my transitioning
after my parents' divorce
so much easier. 
she had been such a blessing
to me.)

so, mom and i went 

to o'daniel's flower shop,
which was completely stocked
for the holidays.
after looking at most everything
in the shop,

i picked out
what i thought was
the perfect  

Christmas candle arrangement
and asked them to deliver it 

to mrs. monsen  

to thank her,
for her kindness.

she loved it...
i loved that she loved it!

~@~

that was the last, real
contact i had with
mrs. monsen-

until memorial weekend
last year
when
i learned from wendy
her dad had died
unexpectedly.
my first thoughts 
turned to dear mrs. monsen. 
having kept in contact 
with wendy,
i knew time and disease
had continued 
to take 
their toll on her mom;
i knew her dad
was her mom's caregiver,
her rock...

~@~

i made sure to go
 to mr. monsen's funeral
to pay my respects
and
offer my condolences,
 love, and support
to wendy and her family.
when the service ended,
i made my way 
to the front of the sanctuary 
to speak to the family.

mrs. monsen was sitting 
in her wheelchair.
so, i knelt in front of her.
taking one of her 
fragile hands in mine
and began to introduce myself to her... 

me: hello, mrs. monsen.
i don't know if you remember me 
or not.
i'm dani dr..
mrs. monsen: dani! 
of course i remember you.

mrs. monsen began to tell 
me she was so happy to see me, 
she told me the importance 
of old friends, 
and 
she thanked me for coming.

when i looked back down,
i noticed i was no longer 
holding her hand.
instead,
she was holding mine 
with both of hers.

her hold was one of the softest, 
kindest, most loving,
i had ever known. 
i realized 
she was the one comforting
me.

it was sweet. 
it was simple.
it was a gift.

in that moment 
i was receiving another 
blessing 
from this great lady. 

had there not been 
a line of people behind me,
i could have sat there with her 
all afternoon...

my hand in her 
perfectly imperfect hands.

love and God's blessings,
dani xxx