Years back I saw a birthday announcement for a woman living in a Waxahachie nursing home. Her name was Edna Black and she had turned 105. There was little written about Edna, but I was touched that she was lucid and still getting around a bit.
As I was out running errands one Spring day, I recalled the story of Edna and thought about what I would want if I was her. To see Bluebonnets one more time was one I came up with and steered the car to the side of a bluebonnet covered hill and picked a handful. I know I have always heard this was against the law, but I felt certain my limited amount and my story of Edna would soften any flex of the law.
I drove to track Edna down in the Renfro Nursing home and entered her room to present the bluebonnets. Her smile was radiant and small attempt at bringing happiness seemed to work. She recognized the blooms immediately and we installed them in a foam cup at her bedside. Then I began to question her about her life. She was limited in her speech or at least did not feel up to sharing but handed me her hairbrush and asked me to brush her hair.
As I ran the brush through her shoulder length thin gray hair, I realized that her hair had been alive, growing and existing in various stages throughout her lifetime. If her hair could talk I would know more than she herself could probably even remember through her 105 years. I visited her entire lifetime with each stroke of the brush. I could feel all of her love, joy, accomplishments, challenges, sorrows and struggles.
Brushing her hair ended up putting her to sleep and I quietly exited. I never saw Edna again, but always cherished the gift she gave me and I never see bluebonnets without thinking of her and the gift.