In 1995 my Grandmother turned 96. This turning implied more than a turning of the page. It was a turning of the corner. After effectively caring for herself nearly an entire century, she simply could do it no longer. Clearly. After soul searching and chest pounding and tears and prayer I took a step I had never imagined I would take. I brought her down to the Bay Area. Fortunately angels were at my side and a clear path opened and the next thing I knew I was packing her up into my Explorer Sport and driving her to her new life–mine. Managing her day to day care was prohibitive. I was able, miraculously, divinely, to place her in a loving, well-managed nursing home in the heart of downtown Sonoma. Little did I know that I was entering a six year adventure, for who is thinking that someone will aspire to and attain a century on planet Earth?? Looking back, I should have known. In that moment, however, I was just focusing on what she needed at that moment. Over the next six years Grandma was mobile enough to be able to participate in family activities and Sunday drives, which she thoroughly enjoyed. It was always so poignant, though, that during that time my Grandmother said to me so many times, “I would love to have lived here.”
One of the many blessings of that particular period was that for four of those trying years I placed myself on a hillside, up a dirt road, on four fabulously beautiful and healing four acres that required me to drive over Hwy. 12 to arrive at her nursing home. Thus the road I am going to here document for you, largely in photos, carries with it an enormous psychic imprint of a thousand conversations and thoughts about the caring and well being of my beloved Grandmother. Do you hear me? I think some of you will.
So out of that six year commitment I managed to build in this wondrously magnificent trail–the way in, the way out. Indeed, it was on this very road, as I was just exiting Sonoma, turning on to Hwy. 12 when I was struck solidly with the intuitive knowing that she had left planet Earth. “Oh, Grandma,” I found myself crying out, tears streaming down my face. Indeed, when I arrived home at the other end of Hwy. 12 there was a message from the hospital that she had left us.
So Hwy. 12 will always mean a lot to me. I carry it with me wherever I go, a sacred touchstone, that I find I long for if I am too long away from it. Happily, now when I go I am ususally seeking out my longtime hairdresser, my favorite Italian cafe, Cafe Citti, or the sheer joy of a beauteous afternoon.
President’s Day I stole out of the office (no one was working in New York, afterall) as I know how beautiful the area is at this time of year and I was enormously inspired to share some of those images with all of you! Enjoy!
And nearby…
One of my very favorite beauties on Hwy. 12 is the elaborate stonework, all handdone, in a fashion lost to most skilled laborers. (That is Hwy.12 you see stretching just beyond the trees.)
Continuing on our journey, do not these old vines wretch at your heart?
A lovely old rosemary grows nearby to keep them company.
An iron rooster keeps watch from a neighboring rooftop.
And our journey ends in a springtime mustard filled vineyard.
Thank you for taking this trip with me.
Love and blessings,
Kathryn xoxo
Posted on February 22nd, 2008 by Kathryn
Filed under: Sacred places
Kathryn,
Highway 12 is a beautiful place. We lived in Sonoma County for 8 years and made many a trip down the highway. Thanks for great story. Bring backs memories of that great place.
Sean
What an incredibly beautiful story – thank you for sharing it with us. I loved hearing about your grandmaman and how much the trip came to mean to you. The photographs are stunning – the field of mustard makes my heart do a little dance of joy!
Good morning, Kate! Thank you for visiting and thank you for the lovely kind words! Kathryn
Hi, Sean! Thanks for taking a trip down memory lane with me! Kathryn
Wow those are great pictures. -Bill
Dear Bill–Thank you for stopping by! I visited your blog. It looks like it’s a good practical resource! Glad you enjoyed the photos! Kathryn
I do know what you mean. And your words are quite beautiful. I am a Meals On Wheels volunteer, and love my exchanges with the clients. Perhaps it has something to do with being raised by my great-grandma. And it is also possible why I love gardening and nature as I do. Well said.
Brenda Kula
Thank you, Brenda. Yes, after awhile we begin to see what the elderly need and we anticipate it. I know all those years in Grandma’s community left me much more sensitive to elderly drivers, walkers, etc. As a Meals on Wheels volunteer you will understand. And one day it will be we needing that kind of caring!
Kathryn
Thank you, Kathryn, for sharing this heartfelt journey with those of us lucky enough to have joined you. Your mustard field photos are stunning. I have a tear in my eye writing since I am caring for my recently blind sister after a horrific year of illness, hoping to keep her near yet knowing I might have to travel a road similar to yours. If so, I hope I see the beauty …
Heartfelt wishes, Joey. Yes, we are called upon to help those near and dear and it’s amazing what we need to pull out of ourselves to do it. Compassion, top of the list. Willingness. Putting ourSELVES aside, in the moment. Be sure to keep yourself well fed, spiritually, emotionally, physically, mentally. Tend your own heart as well as hers. Bless you for your service to family. Kathryn xox
Wow, Kathryn,
This is powerful stuff. I experienced the shivers just reading your eloquent words and feeling transported along Hwy 12 with you – physically and emotionally. What a wonderful, healing, experience to draw our sustenance from a place where we know both sadness and joy. Your photography captures all the sensory features of Hwy 12, too. I almost smell that mustard and rosemary, and I can feel the breeze making the quilts ripple. Thank you. Debra
Thank YOU, Debra, for visting and for sharing your response. As a writer, you will understand the value of this kind of feedback–encouraging me to keep on keeping on, digging deeper and continuing to share life’s journeys, only with the hope that it’s making a difference, somewhere, somehow. Warmly, Kathryn
Your photos are just gorgeous, Kathryn. Very evocative of your Hwy. 12, and a lovely tribute to your grandmother. Thanks for sharing.
Hi, Pam, lovely to have you here today. Thank you for stopping by and I appreciate your kind comments. Warmly, Kathryn