....one hundred

Yogis,
It was May 2020 when two neighborhood women showed me the space along our main street that was to become my gardening responsibility. I had to look it up because if you asked, I would have said I have been doing this four or five years. A symptom of aging. Yet this was my seventh summer of transforming a stubborn weed filled area into a space of bee filled color and joy for our community.

I have loved doing it and it has given me much in return.

In those early days I was told an older woman named Mrs. Cable lived in the house which the garden edges. When there I would keep an eye out for her in hopes we would meet.

Soon enough she began coming out to her front porch and calling me over to thank me, offer water and place a couple personal requests. I learned she loves pinks and purples and is not a fan of gold. Noted.

One day as we stood chatting, she asked if I would like to sit with her on the front porch for a bit. This became a new routine. Through these conversations I learned more about her and her ever expanding family…..and that she was 94.

Although walking was beginning to require some assistance, she was as sharp as they come. She can tell you the names of all of her grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren (of which there are a lot!), their ages, where they live and birthdays!

Impressive.

Sometimes she would ask me to walk her along the garden while I heard stories of old Cabin John. And when I brought my grandchildren to help me, she would come out with ice cream treats and we would all sit. We became friends.

Last week she turned 100.

I attended a large celebration hosted by her family in our community center with close to 100 guests. As she sat beaming in a chair a line formed. All lives in which she played a role.

She is truly an inspiration on aging and I am grateful that she was yet another gift the garden bestowed on my life.

 At the party she told me the name of her first-grade teacher,
SARAH