Every Sunday, once we’d waved goodbye to our last guests, I’d walk with mom down the guesthouse’s staircase to my brother’s home for lunch.
Keeping the staircase clean was one of my responsibilities. A large cherry tree leaned over it and loved to drop its leaves and fruit.
As I carefully led mom, she’d invariably say: ‘this staircase is so dirty. When we had a gardener, he’d keep this spotless. We need to speak to your brother about hiring someone.”
That’s when I knew I must be a Zen master as NOT ONCE did I talk back or get angry.
Messages from the Log is a series of exactly 100-word flash pieces — memories, observations, fiction — that has been running for over two years, with this piece being #77.
If you enjoyed “The Staircase”, you may also like this piece I published two years ago when I was still a carer in Brazil:
Cheap Notebooks
My pandemic notebooks lie on my lap. A Brazilian show from 2010, voted one of the Top 10 worst soaps of all time, plays on the television. It’s so-bad-it's-very-good drama.
What a son you have been: the definition of love and devotion.
You capture this so well Ollie! It does require a Zen master's mind to accompany a loved one along their final journey of their earthbound life.... as indeed it does when holding their hand to support their first steps into this 'precious life'.
Some times it's a gift we can offer. Some times a gift we can reciprocate. In any case it's a gift we give to ourselves in the moment of giving to another, fostering and empowering the circle of life and love.
Beautifully written ♥️🙏 ✨✒️