On Immersion

I enter a personal care home. 6 residents and a supervising couple. They function much like a family. The supervising couple’s mother, is called Mama by nearly all the residents.

Yes, hello. How are you? Thank you. Pleases. Formal. Get straight down to business. First interview started.

An hour and half later, less formal. “Is that the bus?” Mary asks. I insert myself into the family conversation, “Yeah, that’s the bus.” What was I thinking? She wasn’t talking to me.

Later. “Are those locs or kinky twists?” Mary’s sister-in-law asks me. Caught off guard, a delay before I realize she’s talking to me, I answer, “They’re twists.” I smile, I’ve been around long enough for her to feel comfortable asking me about my hair.

More time passes. We’re having a conversation about the two dogs. One’s a large black dog with a cute puppy-face that will make it look eternally young, a clumsy cast on the back leg. The other, a small, scruffy, white dog with curly hair. Mystery, the dog who after being hit by a car dragged herself home, sits at the foot of the husband of the owner’s daughter. He’s daddy to Mystery and the smaller dog, Diamond. Ms. Mary is warning Daddy to not let Diamond bite Mystery’s tail. Funny. Daddy doesn’t have to do anything, because Mystery has a sufficiently calm enough temper to ignore the overactive Diamond. But Diamond doesn’t settle. After a few minutes of more nipping at Mystery’s tail, Diamond turns around, positions her butt in Mystery’s face, and commences to place her tail on Mystery’s nose, insisting in a doggy way that Mystery nip her tail as return-favor. Funnier. Ms. Mary says to her husband, Daddy don’t let Diamond do that, her hot behind. The problem is that she’s hot, but they’re both females, Mary laments. So all Diamond can do is bite Mystery’s tale. Hilarious. You had to be there. I insert myself again, “It is mating season!” Her nasty behind, Mary repeats. We have a shared memory. The type of experiences that make you part of the family, that you sit and laugh about later.

I’m leaving. Thanks. No more thank you’s. Y’all have a good day. Mary stays in her seat, on the phone, but waves. She’s doesn’t get up to see me out. I smile inside. Flattered. No formality needed. I can only take this as a sign that I’ve immersed. Have I?

I think I have.