today
I put a load of laundry in the washer
No ordinary load
of jeans and shirts and socks soon to be lost
There were towels
all of them from home
the home before this one
That place where I grew up
They were hers
Silly how the towels are like old friends to me,
isn’t it?
I know their stories and how they came to be hers
The green one, that chartreuse one,
the shade she could hardly bear,
came from her Aunt who shared my taste in color
Mama always set it out for me to use
when I was there
showering
with the pipes squawking in protest
and the water pressure a fair weather friend at times
The blue one, a lovely shade of nearly denim,
she got for herself when she decided to go with blue
in her own small bathroom
The fluffy white floor mat
I love the feel of it
I don’t know where it will go in my home
I only know
it must
Ahh, the handtowels…..
not sure how we got started on those
but there they are
so many now
for all the seasons and in so many colors
We gave her many of them
at different times
just because
Christmas, winter, spring, Easter, summer, 4th of July,
fall, Harvest, pumpkins, Thanksgiving–
all fingertip towel sized
She liked that size for the little hands
she was so happy to help wash
as the little feet stood on the stool their Cap had made
to give them a leg up in life
The little hands she was so thrilled to hold
to help turn pages
to show how to hold a pencil, scissors, a spoon, and a knife
(though I wasn’t supposed to know about that last one)
As I dropped them gently into the washer
one fell to the floor
I bent over and picked it up
and I held it to my face for a moment
The tears were instant
That smell, the smell of home,
took me off guard
That smell that will always be home,
be her
I wish I could tuck it in a drawer and
keep it forever
a smell that could never be used up
that could always bring back the feelings that come
when I remember
home.
her.
love.
the towels have been washed and dried now
they will be loved in a new way in my own home
and the old smell has likely already faded
I fold them
just like she taught me
standing by that table in our dining room/den
folding and putting them away
so we could sit down and eat
the supper she had cooked
and set on the table
love
the smell of love