This is the time of the year when memories bubble up. When I left the punk scene, I was angry and looked for love in all the wrong places. I found real love through my experiences as a Home Health Aide. I learned compassion. I learned I was a responsible person that needed to be needed as well. I gave so much, and I felt so used up. The punk scene took and took and often there was no return of friendships or the compassion I sleeked. On the east coast I grew up and I like what I found there. When I came back to the west coast, I began to build healthy boundaries. Laura taught me that life can be a very beautiful reality. A healthy place of work and family. A balance of art, life and inspiration. Real caring…
She had long dark hair. Laura was wearing a black beret. A picture taken of her from the 1940s. A smile as sweet as she was all her life. I regret leaving Laura and her family.
I found a better job for more pay.
Describing her portrait sitting on the hearth is a difficult memory after 31 years. She was my first patient as a working Home Health Aide in the city of Rochester New York.
Her soul kitchen smelled foreign to me as I must have looked to them. Me in my white nurse outfit, white stockings and soft leather shoes.
This contrast to Laura and her family caused silence to fill her home’s rooms; at first not a word was shared… eyes dashed and people shuttered around.
Slowly, family members left. We all learned to relax. A new warmth and trust was deeply shared by all.
As the weeks went on I arrived to Laura only. She had suffered a stroke and I was there to help her recover.
From her I learned that kindness does matter in this world, and that diversity blends like sugar-water. Swallowing it down was wonderfully rewarding.
Laura had second sight and told me things. She once owned a soul kitchen. She successfully ran this business and had a family that loved her !