Named
by Laura Wilson
My name means crowned with laurel, perhaps famous or honored. My mother told me she had always wanted to have a daughter to name Laura, but I shrugged it off, denying that I might have a head suitable for holding up wreaths made of green leaves. My ordinary life was free of accolades.
My need for an after-school job took me to a nursing home. I fed the frail ones who were reluctant to eat, urging them with my stories and chatter. I assisted the men by buttoning their striped pajama tops and smoothing their collars. I chatted while helping the women with crinkly permanent waves comb their hair and change from housedresses to plain nightgowns.
There was Gertrude with her gaudy bracelets, plaid shirts, rhinestone earrings and shoes of every color. The former wife of the mayor, her haughty demands concealed the holes in her memory. And Tony, with his smiling face on the pillow; beneath the blankets, his body lay like a fallen apple tree, his bare limbs withered and twisted.
They were all so weary, waiting to be tucked safely in bed.
On those long nights, I listened to their stories. I captured their words like small, soft birds with faintly beating hearts. They told me of their husbands and wives, their mothers, the babies they lost. I imagined their tidy kitchens, their pressed suits, the long letters they cherished.
I knelt before the metal cages of their wheelchairs and untied their shoes. Their kind hands brushed my hair with endearments, and they offered me a gnarled benediction. “Honey, Sweetheart, I don’t know your name. But thank you. And thank your mother for having you.”
I was crowned with their trust and raised my head with honor.
Laura C. Wilson lives in Montclair, NJ. Her work has been published in The Write Group’s anthology Gratitude with Attitude and The Natchez Review. Her poem Squirrel Buddha received an Honorable Mention from Byline Magazine. Wilson leads local writing groups and is completing her certification as a Transformative Language Arts facilitator through the Transformative Language Arts Network.
by Laura Wilson
My name means crowned with laurel, perhaps famous or honored. My mother told me she had always wanted to have a daughter to name Laura, but I shrugged it off, denying that I might have a head suitable for holding up wreaths made of green leaves. My ordinary life was free of accolades.
My need for an after-school job took me to a nursing home. I fed the frail ones who were reluctant to eat, urging them with my stories and chatter. I assisted the men by buttoning their striped pajama tops and smoothing their collars. I chatted while helping the women with crinkly permanent waves comb their hair and change from housedresses to plain nightgowns.
There was Gertrude with her gaudy bracelets, plaid shirts, rhinestone earrings and shoes of every color. The former wife of the mayor, her haughty demands concealed the holes in her memory. And Tony, with his smiling face on the pillow; beneath the blankets, his body lay like a fallen apple tree, his bare limbs withered and twisted.
They were all so weary, waiting to be tucked safely in bed.
On those long nights, I listened to their stories. I captured their words like small, soft birds with faintly beating hearts. They told me of their husbands and wives, their mothers, the babies they lost. I imagined their tidy kitchens, their pressed suits, the long letters they cherished.
I knelt before the metal cages of their wheelchairs and untied their shoes. Their kind hands brushed my hair with endearments, and they offered me a gnarled benediction. “Honey, Sweetheart, I don’t know your name. But thank you. And thank your mother for having you.”
I was crowned with their trust and raised my head with honor.
Laura C. Wilson lives in Montclair, NJ. Her work has been published in The Write Group’s anthology Gratitude with Attitude and The Natchez Review. Her poem Squirrel Buddha received an Honorable Mention from Byline Magazine. Wilson leads local writing groups and is completing her certification as a Transformative Language Arts facilitator through the Transformative Language Arts Network.