Sitting next to her, I notice her looking out the window. “This is such a nice color chrysanthemum” and proceeds to engage me around the garden outside. I wonder, “Did she enjoy gardening?” “Yes, I did before I got sick”. “I love to get my hands dirty!”
Being wheelchair bound should not prevent one from gardening still. How about doing some ‘lap gardening’? Small wooden boxes are cheap, and so are dirt, and a bunch of seeds . . .
Not letting bits of conversation unnoticed, being present for the unmet need beneath. In this case, the need to be in touch with nature.