Earlier this winter, on the morning of our first major snowstorm, my tub faucet started dripping suddenly. I immediately called my dad to ask how to fix it and had the necessary repair parts in hand within 48 hours, but I have to admit that it took eleven days from the time of the first drip until it was fixed.
We fixed the dripping faucet ourselves. And by “we” I mean that my husband fixed it while I hid in the woods, looking out from behind a tree at the river, asking the frozen water for her understanding and forgiveness. I started to make excuses as to why it took so long for us to fix the drip, even though we had all the knowledge and tools we needed to make the repair … What if we actually made the problem worse by trying to fix it ourselves? What would we do if we made a mistake and needed help? And would a plumber even be available for backup if we needed one?
But then I just stopped. I stepped out from behind the tree and I faced the river. I let the excuses fall away and I just took a deep breathe. I looked at Sister Water and I started saying thank you instead of asking for forgiveness.
Thank you, Sister Water, for always loving me unconditionally. Thank you for carrying me and taking care of me. Thank you for all your sacred forms: rain, snow, steam, ice, ocean, lake, river, stream, well. Thank you for your fullness, for filling my cup, my body, my life. I literally would not make it a day without you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
And then I walked back in the house, ready to help fix the dripping faucet, which I did by being fully present, by believing it could be fixed and by lending moral support as the job was being finished. Next time I’ll do better. Next time I’ll act more swiftly to protect Sister Water. I promise I won’t try to hide or look away. I’ll do everything I can to care for Sister Water. And I’ll return her love.
—Angie Pierce Jennings, Prairiewoods hosted groups and hospitality coordinator