My Weekend Job
He brought me a pineapple and told me I looked like Pocahontas. Last month it was Mary Poppins that I looked like. I helped him pick tomatoes from my garden, verbally directing him or guiding his hand because he’s legally blind and developmentally disabled.
I put tomato in the bologna sandwich that I made for his lunch, not the green one he picked, but a red one. Bologna is his favorite. I packed it in his lunchbox, and then drove us up to the Blue Ridge Parkway for a picnic at the Saddle Overlook.
He couldn’t see the view of rolling mountains, but he could see the bright yellow sports car that was parked next to us and strained his neck to get a better look. Sitting in our lounge chairs, I told him about the butterflies flying past us, which ones were black, which flew up close.
He wanted to walk, so we hiked up an inclining trail to an old hiker’s hut, a remnant from before the Appalachian Trail got re-routed. He held onto my arm the entire way up, and when the footing got challenging, I used both my hands to direct him.
“Look at you! You’re like a mountain climber!” I announced when we finally reached the top. He thought the hiker’s hut looked like a pig pen, and with a floor made muddy from yesterday’s heavy rains, it did.
We had broken a sweat and worked up an appetite, so we gulped down some water before heading back down the trail to have lunch.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked, as we were finishing up and his hand was surveying the potato chip bag to see if he had missed any.
“It begins with an S,” I told him, knowing how much he likes games.
“Sloppy Joe!” he guessed, “Or steak and onions!”
“Good guesses,” I said, and one of them was right.
Post Note: For 8 years I provided full time foster care for an adult with developmental disabilities. Now I do respite occasionally on weekends for other foster care providers.
September 4th, 2006 6:43 pm
you are an angel, or just a compassionate human being. Either are rare sights, and appreciated by your neighbors on the planet. Thank you for being a good soul.
September 4th, 2006 6:45 pm
Good for you, Colleen: I’ve found that nothing makes me feel better than getting out of myself and doing something for another. I’m sure you both had a great day…and what a view!
September 4th, 2006 8:23 pm
What a nice story and such a great way to spend a day. Giving back and soaking in that gorgeous scenery.
September 4th, 2006 10:25 pm
What a special story and a wonderful way to spend your day.
Michele says hi.
September 5th, 2006 8:57 am
You are very kind to extend yourself to others in this way. This warms my heart.
September 5th, 2006 10:40 am
What a nice story. You must be a very special person. I have been enjoying your blog. Love your style.
September 5th, 2006 12:19 pm
what a beautiful story! Thank you for sharing 🙂
September 5th, 2006 6:46 pm
How really wonderful Colleen. It sounds like it was a pretty special say! You are truly fantastic, dear Colleen!
September 5th, 2006 7:18 pm
love the story! that’s great that you foster! there is a small home for dd adults right behind our house and i enjoy them tremendously! my son is in mailman mode right now. he makes homemade mail each morning and delivers it to all the neighbors. the residents of the home love it and stand outside by their fence and wait on him in the mornings.
September 5th, 2006 8:13 pm
Very admirable and caring of you. This is foster care as in you were a foster parent?
I have healthy twin boys, and every now and then I am reminded at how lucky I am that they have no mental or physical ailments.
September 5th, 2006 9:33 pm
Foster care, as in provider, not parent. I guess I should clarify that it’s foster care for adults (not children) with developmental disablities that I do.
September 5th, 2006 11:03 pm
Colleen you are even more wonderful than I already thought! I want to find my way of giving back….
September 5th, 2006 11:52 pm
What wonderful freedom you give this man; the ability to hike, feel the sun on his face, eat his bologna sandwich. You touch many lives.
September 6th, 2006 5:19 pm
For eight summers or so I worked at a camp for developmentally disabled kids–a sleepover camp. Scores of kids passed through each week. The camp was on a hill/cliff and was challenging, physically, for everyone. Those were beautiful summers.
September 8th, 2006 9:41 pm
And they are incredibly lucky to have you. You related that so touchingly. The journo in me thinks you should sell this entry to your local paper.
September 9th, 2006 2:48 pm
Beautiful. Thank you for being you!