When I was attending seminary in Saskatoon back in the 90s I worked at a nursing home as a care aide. There was a woman who lived there who needed very little assistance and I spent little time with her. However, every time I checked in on her she gave me the sense that she had created her own cocoon and she was deeply content there. My memory is that her room contained handiwork hobbies, books and photo albums. I don’t remember that ladies name now but I think of her on a regular basis. She stirred in me a desire to have photo albums prepared for my old age, so that I could sit and enjoy things a second time around. Perhaps the time would then not feel so long.
In the years since I worked at Stensrud Lodge technology has shifted the way I process and record my thoughts and memories. I have a couple boxes of photo albums but most memories of becoming a Mom of 3 and becoming a ranch woman are in digital format. What my old age entertainment will look like is going to be quite different from what I imagined. If digital vaults hold strong I guess I might be pulling up this blog to re-read, as a 90 year old woman. I am assuming alot to envision myself well at 90 but I am working towards that.
I think it will make my 90 year old self smile to remember these things.
When Jill learned of a blanket project to comfort those involved in a recent school shooting she set to work crocheting blocks to mail to the project coordinator.
Another thing I want to remember is my experience of being Russell’s right hand man last night. Morgan had gone to a fundraiser and Anja is fighting a bad cold so Russ phoned me when the work he was doing to pull a calf had maxed him out. The weirdest thing happened when Russ passed me the handles of the chains so that I could apply my best effort to pulling that calf from its very tight quarters. I crouched and hung back to use my body weight for extra leverage and then I pulled using every muscle I could from my head to my toes. In that posture, with that focus, in the midst of that activity my mind went to a place I last occupied 19 years ago when Morgan was born. I just felt that if I could give it my all something would shift in the position of the calf, its how that worked last time for me. It wasn’t enough this time, we ended up attaching a tool we have to apply more leverage/pull and still that calf was not easily released. Russ yelled at me to adjust something I had no idea about, I screeched back at him to explain, he did, I did it, we moved on. Then he ordered me to go around to the other side of the chute, open the side door, and support the calf as it was part way out but in grave danger if it just hung there out of alignment. I held its head the wrong way. Russ barked at me to go the other way. He tried to get me aligning the calf’s shoulders better. I was in brand new territory and feeling super stupid. I was feeling a bit prickly about being yelled at but the life of the calf was at stake and deep down I understood. Also, Russ never yells at me except at times like this so I managed not to get my shirt in a knot even though I am very sensitive. When the calf was out Russ was whooped. He passed me the pulling chains and told me to either carry or drag the calf to the straw. It didn’t look very alive and I was nervous. Once to the straw I heard the command to get the chains off and get out of the way, he wanted to let that cow go to its calf. As I fumbled with the chains, excitement grew cause that little calf was springing to life like a shaken pop bottle. It started shaking its head and flicking its ears and I was thrilled. I got the chains off and got the heck out of the way. Our work was done. I am so thankful for how all that unfolded. When the fever of the moment had passed Russ returned to his more tender self and thanked me sincerely for the help. He later wrote on the ranch chat that I was strong and fast and perfect. Hindsight involves rose colored glasses sometimes.
The story is not quite finished yet because today at lunch Morgan wanted the details of how the pull had gone. My story telling got quite vivid. I told Anja, Russ, Morg and Ron about how I was transported to that spot in my thinking where I was back in labor. Then I imitated myself doing the labor breathing that I actually did do in the midst of the pull last night. It was I think slightly overwhelming and a bit too much information for Morgan and perhaps he was also slightly enjoying his mother but what he said was “and you wonder why I don’t want to live with my parents!?” For me, the chance to be goofy and light hearted with it felt like the perfect ending to that story, the perfect way to put to rest the stress and tension within the story.
When I am 90 and sitting in my rocking chair with whatever device will allow me to read my blog, warmed with a blanket Jill has crocheted for me, one with replicas of all the dogs and cats I have ever loved attached to it, I will read about a day when Russ and I were strong and in the business of saving lives. Hopefully he will be able to hear me read it aloud to him, we will ponder it and Russ, who has an incredible memory will say, “you gave me a butterscotch chip cookie after that breathing performance.” Hopefully.
A few pictures from this time…..
Thats it for this installment of things I want to remember. Thanks for sharing it with me.
Kathy
As Far As The Eye Can See 