Pigtails and pinto beans

Remember Judy and Joe -- the couple from the church in Loomis who drove me 30 miles to Sacramento in the middle of an early morning rainstorm so I wouldn't get lost on the freeway exchanges? Well, I got an email from Judy the other day. I loved it. Hope she'll forgive me if I quote a bit of it here:

"After we dropped you off in Sacramento and came home we both sat down on the couch with silly grins on our faces and joy filled hearts. Joe asked me if the house felt different. I understood exactly what he meant. Yes! We both think it was the residual of angel dust or star dust or energy that is surrounding you as you walk this journey right now. I described the feeling as being in a little boat on the ocean when a really BIG SHIP goes past. You get caught in the wake for a while and bob up and down and it's thrilling and exciting and you laugh and hang on tight until the waters calm down again. It sure puts you on the lookout for another BIG SHIP!

"Incidentally, I decided to look up 'pilgrimage' in the dictionary...an old habit...just to try to see all the nuances that may be listed. I laughed when I discovered that the lead words on the two pages where I found pilgrimage were 'pigtail' and 'pinto beans'. I can't think of two things that are more frivolous and practical...I imagine you find all kinds of pigtails and pinto beans on your journey."

I got emails from two Judys that day. The second one was from my friend who is a nurse in the cardiac intensive care unit of a medical center. She gave me permission to reprint her message. I have changed the names.

"I want to tell you about one of my patients yesterday. Her name is Annie and she is 73. I took care of her when she was in the hospital last January. She has a very bad heart. When I got to work yesterday, she was crying and continued to cry off and on for several hours. Her long-time doctor had come in that morning to say goodbye to her. He told her there was nothing more they could do for her heart. She was being released to hospice care. Annie knew she was going home to die.

"I sat with her for a while as she cried and talked about letting go. Her husband came in and we all sat and talked. Then I had the idea to give her your book. I decided to read it to her first. As I read, both Annie and her husband seemed to be enchanted with the story. She smiled and laughed and cried and hugged me after I finished reading. She said she was going to read it to her daughter and her granddaughter and then give the book to her daughter who is a third-grade teacher so she can read it to her class.

"I discharged Annie about 11 a.m. She and her husband walked out of the hospital arm-in-arm. They seemed happy to be going home. Annie had the book tucked under her arm."