Sometimes, someone else’s experience stops you in your tracks — not because it’s grand or glamorous, but because it’s deeply, quietly human. My dear friend Rose shared something with me recently that did exactly that, and it felt like the beginning of a new conversation here at Glover Gardens — a series I’m calling What We Mean to Each Other.
That’s Rose in the picture below – she’s vivacious, charming, funny as hell, and deeply cares for others.
Along with her husband, Rose is an empty-nester these days (with two adorable grand-boys who live in another town). She volunteers at a senior home, where she and her dog, Pepper, bring joy and comfort to the residents. Pepper is the Resident Therapy Dog, and has a special collar she wears only for this role.
One of the residents, let’s call her Serena, has dementia. Rose told me:
“I spent a good part of the afternoon with my dear Serena; she suffers from dementia. I am getting to know many of the people at the memory care facility quite well as I traverse this path. I was inspired watching her today. It could be doom and gloom sadness, but she (and many of the other people there) seem unphased. They live in the small minutes that make up their world, with each set becoming an opportunity for renewal. So…they might be sad in that moment I arrive, but any small surprise or gesture resets that emotion and they release that sadness out into the universe…forgetting about it completely oftentimes. She is truly teaching me to slow down, observe my surroundings and enjoy the moment (even in its ordinariness).“
“Inspired by her and you, I wrote my first Haiku since I was in junior high.”
Memory fading
Happiness in the moment
Which of us is chained?
Isn’t that stunning? In just seventeen syllables, Rose captures the beauty of living in the moment — something she, Serena and Pepper are all practicing in their own ways. This story reminds me that meaning doesn’t come from grand gestures; it grows quietly in these small, shared moments of grace.
In short, her words took my breath away. I wrote back:
“OMG, that is amazing! You brought tears to my eyes. What a thoughtful and profound reflection. And I love the haiku! It’s such a gift to have these transformational and transcendent moments, isn’t it? How wonderful that you were called to be in that place at that time — with those special people. I would love to share this in the blog if you were OK with that. No pressure, though!”
She replied with such humility and heart:
“That would be such an honor! The people I’ve been blessed to meet lived amazing high-pressure lives…a geologist, college dean, surgical nurse to name a few. Speaking to one of the employees today, many have families that cannot face their reality now, and it really stunned me.
Their lives are simple, but you get glimpses of those amazing people if you take the time. I’m sure they were all infinitely interesting at those points in their lives, but there is a sweetness about all of them now as well. I understand the sadness of this shift, but am heartbroken that so many people withdraw rather than embrace their loved ones during this phase. …and they are flipping hilarious when they are feeling talkative.
This has been one of the most spiritually exhausting and invigorating things I have been able to do.”
Well.
I am inspired by Rose’s reflections. And I’m happy that SHE was inspired by my haiku to write her own, her first in years and years. And even more happy that she shared this story with me.
I’m so inspired that I’m starting a new series.
What We Mean to Each Other will explore stories like this — moments of connection, kindness, and reflection that reveal the best in us. Sometimes they’ll come from friends like Rose; sometimes from family, from travel, or from the kitchen table.
I’d love to hear yours, too. You can DM me via the Glover Gardens Facebook or Instagram by clicking below – you are enthusiastically invited to join the Glover Gardens party on those channels.
© 2025, Glover Gardens
