Young Jackson James will start daycare in a week. Part of the preparation is making a series of visits to the care facility. Mike and Kate have visited several and chose the location because they believe it will be a safe haven for Jackson. Great thought goes into making such decisions. California law requires a care ratio of no less than 4 to 1. Jackson will be one of a dozen children under one-year-old charged to a dedicated team of four. Having four possible care givers attending to him is a bit reassuring. There ought to be at least one available to tend to him at any given time. At least that’s the plan.
Kate had to complete no less than seventeen documents to enroll Jackson. That’s a lot of documentation. The facility has several requirements. They’re referenced throughout their website. Kate’s a planner so she created a checklist to prepare for the transfer of power.
Most of the items on the list seem routine. Clothes, diapers, bottles, burp cloths, butt paste, etc. I did note what I believe is an unusual item until I consider where Jackson lives, California. Item fourteen is an earthquake kit. It looks like the contents of the kit itself are left to the parents.
Our discussions with Mike and Kate took me back to a time when Ruth and I were preparing to leave our firstborn, David, with a care provider when Ruth returned to work. We took an add in the local paper seeking someone to come into our home. We ran the add for a few days, received several inquiries, and conducted face to face interviews with the prospective employees. I only remember two.
The first was a large lady with a flowered dress, bright red lipstick, and sweet smelling perfume. Part of the interview included an opportunity to hold six-month old David. We gave points for how she held him and interacted with the three of us. We had to bathe David several times to get rid of the perfume’s residue. It permeated the entire house for a couple of days. She seemed competent, but the perfume was a deal breaker.
The second was Mrs. Berry. If she had a first name, we never used it. She was a kind lady in her fifties and about twice our age. She was divorced with children and grandchildren of her own. The job was straightforward. Drive over to our house and take care of Master David. We supplied everything. We paid her a weekly wage, contributed both the employer and employee portions of her social security payments, gave her paid “snow days” on the days we had off, and provided her lunch. She liked garlic and green beans.
She started caring for David in September of 1975. She stayed in our employ throughout the school years until March of 1977. That’s when Elizabeth was born. Ruth stayed home and cared for our two.
Ruth’s hospital roommate, Cecily, had a baby girl the same day Elizabeth was born. Allison and Cecily visited us a couple of times after the girls’ birth. Mrs. Berry was unemployed, and Cecily needed someone to care for Allison so she could return to work. They met at our house and struck an agreement for employment. It was a perfect match. A couple months later, Allison was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. It was tragic news for everyone.
I landed a job in Addison shortly after receiving the news regarding Allison’s diagnosis. Ruth and Cecily kept in touch after we moved. We received updates regarding Allison and Mrs. Berry in our annual Christmas card. Cecily thanked Ruth for introducing her to Mrs. Berry because she was “great help” during difficult times.
The paths our lives take are full of twists and turns. We never know who we’re going to meet that will have a lasting impact. Mrs. Berry was a wonderful caregiver to David and Allison. She took care of David for eighteen months and Allison until her passing at age twelve. Her life was richer because of Mrs. Berry.