Comfortable Skin

 "The moment will arrive when you are comfortable with who you are, and what you are– bald or old or fat or poor, successful or struggling- when you don't feel the need to apologize for anything or to deny anything. To be comfortable in your own skin is the beginning of strength." -Charles Handy

There is a new commercial on TV that ends with the spokesperson, usually a big name sports figure, saying, "and I'm comfortable in my skin".  I've used that phrase often.  Not about myself, because even though I would like to think I am confident with who I am, I have a long way to go.  I've used it when describing others. 

This past summer I had the chance to spend two weeks with my daughter while my son (in-law) was out of town.   She lives on a street lined with brownstones turned into apartments and condos.   Most have a flat facade and open out onto the sidewalk near the street with very little yard to maintain.  Those who want to garden are left to containers on their balconies.

One of the brownstones near my daughter's is a squared off "U" with a courtyard.  What sets it apart from the other buildings is it has lovely kept cottage gardens.   When I was there they were filled with blooms I only wish I could grow.  I commented that I was surprised a landlord would go to so much trouble.  My daughter told me the gardens were actually put in by a "older" lady  and her husband who live in one of the apartments.

I loved walking by that building just to see what new was coming up.  One of the first things drawing my attention was the columbines not just growing,  but flourishing in the hot sun.  I love columbines.  My love of columbines is like the woman who always goes after the wrong man.  Each year I plant them, they hang around for awhile.  They  beg me to feed and tend them, then they tire and leave me never to return.  (And yes, I allowed two columbines in my wagon Saturday.)

One morning as I headed out, the creator of this wonderfully kept courtyard was outside working.  Now in my daughters eyes I am an older woman; I was expecting someone around my age.  This gardener had at least twenty years on me.  She was about my height with a tiny frame.  Her hair was white and pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck.  She wore khaki shorts and a sleeveless gingham buttoned down shirt neatly tucked in.  As I passed I told her how much I admired her garden, and that I was amazed how well her columbines were doing in direct sunlight.  She stopped her weeding to come nearer to chat. 

In our moments together I found she had been a teacher.  While talking  about how gardening was like teaching,  she came very close and whispered, "so is marriage".  In less than five minutes I had a new friend.  The years between us melted away;  we had connected.

As the days passed, I enjoyed stopping each morning to chat with her for a moment or two.  She was always dressed the same, with her white hair secured in back.   She was never uncomfortable greeting me  with sweat on her brow and  dirt on her knees and hands.  I found out she works every morning from the last hard freeze to the first snowfall.   She never buys seeds or plants; she collects her seeds from her flowers and starts them inside.  I stood and watched her gently transfer seedlings from a plastic container to the ground, using a silver tablespoon.

One of my last mornings to see her, I was walking down the sidewalk with two incredibly hot cups of coffee in my hands.  As I started to turn to go into my daughter's apartment, my friend jumped up and urgently motioned for me to come nearer.  I really didn't want to stop; I needed to set down the hot coffee cups, but to be honest I thought something was wrong, or she had something fabulous to show me.  She met me halfway, getting very close to my face she whispered, "Isn't it a glorious morning?"

In my haste to deliver morning coffee, I almost failed to notice the morning and my lovely friend.  The cups didn't seem so hot anymore; I could stand and chat a moment.  It was the most glorious morning!

I hope someday I find I am as comfortable in my skin.