a rose by any other name

For a couple of years now we’ve seen this small older lady walking a giant furry dog on the beach every morning during our vacation trips.  It’s always early, and the dog walks very slowly.  He’s always super calm.  He walks, never runs.  The lady walks with no tension on the leash and she seems to ignore humans.  She wears sandals or water shoes.  Very brown legs rise up from the shoes and disappear into shorts.  The shorts give way to a baggy tshirt that always, always has some sort of sarcastic phrase on the front (think “do not disturb”, “NO”, “I hate people”, etc.).  The hand that doesn’t loosely hold the leash holds a mesh bag and a very large medicine bottle for shells.  She seems to wear glasses or sunglasses and her head is topped with a beige visor that reads “Elephant Sanctuary”.  The visor, along with her head, is pointed down as she walks, looking for shells. 

The last time we were at the beach we saw the lady and the dog, but one day G said she saw the beach-trash pick-up truck stop just down from the lady. The driver got out.  When he did, the dog pulled the leash tight.  The lady spoke to the dog, let go of the leash and the big dog galloped over to the man, jumping on him and happily licking his face.  This was a glimpse of a person different from what we had grown to expect.

The first morning of our most recent beach trip,  I noticed the lady.  Head down, giant dog by her side, both walking slowly.  The next morning we watched her from the balcony after my run.  Just up the beach from us, the same pick-up truck pulled to a stop.  The driver got out and the leash was dropped.  The dog ran to the man.  The man zigged and zagged and finally stopped to let the giant dog jump up and hug him.  It was fun to watch.

Another morning passed, and when I came back from my run, G was sitting out on the beach in a chair, reading and watching the sunrise.  My sand sculpture had survived the overnight tide with only a few problems.  After stretching, I repaired the bad places.  While I was doing that, several early morning walkers came over to ask about the sculpture.  I was kind and personable, but I kept working, looking forward to my coffee as soon as I was done.  I stood up to survey the work and to make sure I was finished. Suddenly, there was a lady standing behind me with a small dog attached to the end of a leash, asking about the sculpture.  She thought it was an octopus (it was a hummingbird), and she told me about an octopus she made by painting the 8 exposed roots of a dogwood tree in her backyard.  She explained it was in her garden so she had an “octopus’s garden in the shade”, like the line in the Beatles song.  She told the story with such liveliness.  She looked me in the eye and smiled as she told it.  She was funny. I could tell she was a spark plug. 

She talked with G and me for a little bit and said she didn’t have her camera to take a photo of the sculpture.  She asked if I had a business card, which of course I didn’t have with me.  I told her that I would write my website and email address on a piece of paper and give it to her the next morning on my run.  She was interested in sending me a photo of her octopus and seeing my other sculptures.  She let us play with the tiny, furry dog whose name was Seuss, as in Dr. Seuss, one of my favorite humans to ever walk the Earth.  We asked if she had a giant furry dog.   She confirmed she was the little lady with the giant furry dog (his name was Franklin).  The little lady’s name was Rose.  She made several witty, sarcastic comments that cracked me up.  One of those comments was, “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you.  I don’t talk to anyone.”

The next morning I barely made it out onto the beach before running into her and Franklin.  I handed her the piece of paper with my information on it.  She scanned it and immediately asked where my wife was.  She asked if my wife was coming down to walk the beach with her.  I knew G was up and probably planned to sit on the balcony to watch the sun rise, so I texted her.  After a few minutes G came down and they were off.  By the time they returned, they were friends and had walking plans for the next morning. 

Rose and Franklin

There were a couple of emails and phone calls that day.  Rose is older than me and has a flip phone and a land line.  Neither of them work well.  She told me in her email that she had sent my information to an artist friend of hers in Baltimore.  One of only two other people that she mentioned talking to.  He said some nice things about my work, and she wanted me to know.

The next morning I woke up at 5:30am and already had two missed calls from Rose.  (She gets up early.)  When G and I made it out to the beach, Rose was out there waiting.  G and Rose went walking while I ran.  When they returned I was on the balcony having my coffee, and Violet wanted to run down to meet Franklin.  Soon I was summoned down from my balcony coffee for more talking.  Rose asked if we wanted to go with her to a seafood restaurant, so we scheduled a loose plan for the afternoon.  She wanted us to come pick her up so she could show us her house and meet her dogs.  She was thrilled that Violet loved dogs and suddenly had the idea that the dog she never gets to walk on the beach could be handled by Connor.  This dog was stronger and not as gentle as Franklin.  Rose was also making a list of things we could help her with…one of those things was teaching her how to make a sand sculpture.

That afternoon, we headed to her house.  She insisted we call her once we got to her neighborhood so she could talk us to her house.  She doesn’t trust the phone maps because they take you down a road she doesn’t like.  I should say here that she’s very, very feisty.  She has lived alone for most of her life.  Slowly over the short conversations, she had hinted that she was a special education teacher, she worked on a boat as a waitress in Delaware, she came from a difficult family situation, and her only living family member is a distant brother.  She has 6 pets…4 dogs, a cat, and a bird.  Two big dogs and two Pomeranians.  She was in a terrible accident in 2002 and suffered debilitating brain damage.  She lost the ability to read, write, and speak clearly.  She’s permanently disabled, but she relearned just about everything.  The accident took away her filter, so she says everything that’s on her mind.  She cusses like a sailor, and doesn’t censor herself very much around children.  The kids heard a lot of “Rose words” this week, and learned some things too.    

So she talked us to her house on speaker phone.  She took us on a route that gave us a view of her backyard across a small pond, just so she could stand in the back yard, waving at us and laughing…because that’s fun to do.  As we pulled into the driveway, she stood in the front yard, holding her phone to her ear.  She started the tour with her “studio”.  She likes to make things but she said she lacks the ability to finish things or to translate what is in her head into what she wants to make.  The studio was a two car garage, and half of it was full of plastic bins of sorted sea shells.  It was amazing.  Each type of shell was separated, sometimes by color in a quantity that could only come from a 6 day per week beach walker.  She had projects started that involved the shells, driftwood, or other beach objects.  These were crafty projects, and you could tell she does it to stay busy and mentally active.  She said she sleeps late if she sleeps until 3:30am.  She’s on the beach by 5am every day (except Saturdays) walking and looking for shells.  She’s researched them and knows all their real names.  Outside the studio she showed us her plants.  Some were planted in the ground and some were planted inside old sinks and bathtubs in the yard.  This is in a fancy neighborhood with lots of rules, but she is Rose and does anyone really want to fight with Rose?

A brief sidebar:  Eventually we discovered that “Rose” isn’t even Rose’s name.  It’s taken from a small part of one of her legal names.  Rose is so cool she gets to disregard her given name and make up her own.  And no one gets to question that!

Then we went inside.  Rose doesn’t use air conditioning.  In South Carolina Lowcountry summers, Rose does not  air condition her home.  It was 89 degrees inside on the first floor.  91 degrees upstairs.  I know because I looked at the thermostats on the wall.  I’m pretty sure the thermostats were sweating and fanning themselves.  She gave us the grand tour of her home and introduced us to all 4 of her dogs.  Harrington is a big black Labradoodle.  He’s big and strong and never gets to walk on the beach because Rose can’t handle him.  Seuss we had already met.  He was a Pomeranian.  Beside him was Disney, also a Pom but suffers from extreme car sickness, so he’s not allowed to go on beach walks either.  Then there was the giant fluffy dog, Franklin.  Franklin is very sweet.  She showed us every room except a project room and the bathrooms.  There was one room upstairs where she will turn on a window unit air conditioner when she’s home with the dogs.  They all hang out, watch TV, and sleep in that room together. 

After the very warm, humid tour, it was time to leave for dinner.  The restaurant Rose suggested was close, and it was one we had never tried.  She mentioned having no family and no friends in town that she actually wants to talk to or hang out with.  There were a couple of friends in other states, but she doesn’t get to see them anymore.    

Rose says everything she thinks when she thinks it.  I find this to be an admirable quality in a human.  One of my favorite people, my aunt LJ, has this superpower as well.  One morning on the beach, Rose sang a song to Ariel about her dogs’ penises (or peni or penes.  Rose insisted that we Google it.).  As soon as we walked in the door of the restaurant, Rose started by making a comment to a lady who walked past us to join the rest of her party.  I missed the comment because I was holding the door for the lady, but the lady didn’t miss it.  Then she started with the waitress, and the waitress gave it right back to her.  They became fast friends.  Rose wants everything the way she wants it.  She asked lots of questions about the food preparation.  The waitress offered to let her go into the kitchen to boss everyone around. 

She had lots of questions for us and had already picked G’s brain about things for several miles of walking.  She ate slowly and talked a lot.  She told us about some of her family stuff.  An ex-husband from ages ago.  Oh, and the needlework.  Rose does needlework.  She creates these beautifully stitched images on fabric and even had a wall-mounted decorative rug she had stitched.  Her home was filled with her needlework.  Most were framed and hanging on her walls.  She even pulled some out of storage to show us.  She seemed proud of them, and rightly so.  I saw one above the front door that looked like Hebrew letters.  I noticed quietly.  At dinner she casually mentioned something about being Jewish.  I asked how Jewish she was.  She seemed antsy about it and she was being very gentle with her words.  This was very odd from her.  She asked if I noticed the Hebrew needlework above her door.  I said I did and asked if it was “Shalom”.  She said yes and seemed surprised.  She asked how I knew that.  I told her she wasn’t our only Jewish friend, and she was shocked.  She wanted to know if we still liked her now that we knew she was Jewish.  She wasn’t joking.  This was a real concern she had.  I told her we loved everyone.  Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe we live in a society where people hate each other because of what they believe, where they are from or what kind of brown their skin happens to be.

When we all finished eating and paying, we left the restaurant.  Rose really wanted us to go to Lowe’s foods across the street because it’s her favorite grocery store.  She asked if we wanted a drink and told us that Lowe’s foods has a bar inside.  People were hanging out in the bar in the grocery store and walking around shopping with glasses of beer.  Blue and Violet didn’t want a drink so we all skipped the bar.  Rose decided she liked coffee recently and asked if I liked coffee.  Coffee is my love language, so I was very happy to give her some coffee advice.  She wanted a simple way to make coffee so I told her about the French Press.  She decided she needed one so we picked her out a French Press, a good coffee, and some flavored creamer so she could make iced coffee.  (For the record, I do not approve of iced coffee, but this was Rose and she does what she wants, so I was happy to help her find what she liked.)  At the checkout she made some wild comments to the cashier, and the cashier gave me some interesting looks and smiles. 

Back at Rose’s house, she really wanted to find a way to bring her dog Harrington to the beach for a walk.  This was the dog she wasn’t able to control on her own. She wanted Blue to walk Harrington around the yard to see if he was qualified to handle him on the beach.  If he passed the test, she wanted him to meet her the following morning to walk Harrington.  First though, Rose had a plan for taking each of the dogs out separately and letting Violet handle that.  After taking them out, Violet got to take them up to the air conditioned room and brush them all as a part of their nightly routine.  Blue took Harrington outside to walk him and practice giving him commands to sit.  He learned the hand signals and verbal commands for the dog, which were in Hebrew.  Harrington was excited, but he watched, listened and obeyed.  Blue passed the test. 

As we were leaving Rose’s house I told her we would see her on the beach in the morning.  I asked if it would be around 6:00 am, and she laughed.  She said she was hoping we’d meet her at 5:00 am.  All of our eyes must have popped out of our heads because she said she could compromise and try for 5:30 am.  I had been on an early running schedule from the Sand Sculpture trip the week before, but the kids were not on that schedule.  But they really wanted to walk with Harrington and Rose, so they agreed and said it wouldn’t be a problem. 

G set an alarm for 5:00 am because they needed to get up and drive down the beach a bit to meet Rose and Harrington.  I think I woke up at 5:15 am, and G was up getting ready.  I checked the time on my phone and had 2 missed calls from Rose.  By the time I got my contacts in and running shoes on, I had 2 more missed calls.  I called her back to tell her G and the kids were on their way, and then I headed out for my run.  I met them pretty quickly walking along.  Everyone was calm, including Harrington, who was doing very well with his new handler.  Blue is used to walking Zeke on a leash, so Harrington wasn’t much different.  Rose was very impressed. 

 Blue, Violet, Harrington and Rose

Blue, Violet, Harrington, Rose and Yun!

3 miles later I met back up with them on the beach near our condo and told them about the Loggerhead sea turtle nest I found on my run.  I was able to report it to the turtle police lady on her patrol, and she called it in.  (When I use the term “turtle police”, I’m referring to the South Carolina United Turtle Enthusiasts, volunteers who walk the beaches every morning during nesting season to locate and protect any overnight turtle nests.  I use the slang term because sometimes they can be upset with me about sand sculptures.  I mean it in a loving way, though.)  They had more walking to do before getting back to their vehicles, and they discussed driving down to see if the turtle police were going to move the eggs.  Rose also told us she was up for dinner that night if we were interested.  I ditched the turtle show and opted for the shower and some balcony coffee.  G and the kids ended up driving down to the nest site without Rose and watching the turtle police locate and carefully dig up the eggs.  I got to discover a fresh sea turtle nest, and they got to watch the people relocate the nest and see about 100 turtle eggs in person – a once in a lifetime experience – all because we had to get up early to walk with Rose. 

Loggerhead Sea Turtle tracks and nest site

 Loggerhead Sea Turtle nest opened to reveal the eggs

SCUTE volunteer carefully removing the eggs for nest relocation

That afternoon we met Rose at The Grilled Cheese and Crabcake Company, which is our favorite place to eat at the beach.  I may have eaten there 4 times in the past 2 weeks.  Rose doesn’t eat fried foods often, and all the food there is very fried.  She also doesn’t eat out often, and almost never with other people.  She hadn’t been out to eat since October until she met us.  When we arrived she was already there, standing outside.  She told us how much she was enjoying the breeze and that it was too nice to wait inside.  She ordered fried green tomatoes and a crabmelt: fried, fried and fried.  She joked with the waiter and had lots of questions for him and for us.  We laughed our way through dinner and lingered a bit, knowing it would be the last time we saw Rose on this trip. 

Rose and her fun shirt at the Grilled Cheese and Crabcake Company

We drove home that night.  Rose called twice.  Once she talked to us for 40 minutes on speaker phone.  We laughed some more.  But just behind the laughter, G and I knew that there was something more serious in this serendipitous meeting.  This was not just being nice to someone you meet on the beach or walking someone’s dogs.  There was a person here who was at a particular point where they needed someone else, even if it was just for a few days.  We found ourselves in a position to simply be a smile or a laugh or a dinner date.  We were allowed access to someone’s life, an access they never allow to others.  It was really great.  We were able to make a human connection with Rose.  And we were able to demonstrate the importance of that sort of connection to Blue and Violet at the same time.  It was nice to have an old fashioned walk and face to face conversation with another human.  It was nice to talk and laugh with someone who has different beliefs than us.  Someone who has a different way of living.  And we were able to love that person and enjoy our differences while also appreciating our similarities. 

I know how this must sound coming from a self-proclaimed hermit.  But I’m going to do my best to keep my eye out for Roses in the coming months.  We never know the impact we may be able to have on someone’s life just by being kind.

Or the impact they could have on us.