I remember my mother’s hands; the soft wornness of them, weathered driftwood smooth, eroded by the endless washing of dishes, socks and rags.
Her skin nearly translucent, stretched soft, like material that has long ago lost its cling. Velvet and ropes. I remember the scent of Jergens, how she continually smoothed the cream into her palms and then wrung her hands together, washing in the lotion with the twists and turns of her wrists and fingers, twirling her wedding ring to include the skin covered by its band.
I think of my mother often, but especially on Mondays…When I was growing up, Mondays were the day the laundry flapped in the sun. Mondays were the days the Lemon Pledge came out, along with the Clorox and Comet cleanser. Over time, this habit has reinstated itself. It makes sense to me. Start the week clean.
But on fall days like today, my laundry would remain wet if I tried to hang it outside. Instead, I drape it over various wood racks in our bedroom. The aroma of clean clothes mixed with a hint of woodsmoke from the fire creates an elixir that I wish I could bottle. The drying clothes create a lovely fresh-smelling humidity to counter the drying woodstove.
My mother would not be impressed with my sporadic dusting and my rare forays at washing the floor. I will probably never get the house as clean as she kept hers, but it’s a pretty good start.
Mostly though, I just catch myself looking at my hands…
Thanks also from me — who loves her automatic dryer and leaves the dusting too long, but is fully capable of a good woman’s cry and some nostalgia! Ah, the Jergen’s lotion raised, again, memories of a favourite aunt who died this summer — see a Lives Lived G & M column about her here http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/facts-and-arguments/margaret-harder/article1712492/ — and the hanging laundry brought memories of the two years we lived in Paraguay and that was the only way it was done and sometimes when I’d be pinning up the last diapers the first would already be dry, that’s howo hot it was.
Thanks Dora. I just read your column about your aunt. What an honour it must have been to know her. Your tribute is beautiful.
And I’m also trying to imagine that Paraguan ‘hot-line’. I could use some of that heat in this slow process. The clothes in our room are pretty much dry now – after 30 hours – not quite the same heat here 🙂 I’ve been trying to use the dryer less and the clothesline and racks more. Like everything else, it’s a work-in-progress… Thanks again for visiting.
That was so beautiful, Colleen. What a wonderful memory to share. You are an amazing writer, my friend.
Bless you Gwen. This has been one of ‘those’ writing days and your kind words couldn’t have come on a better day. Thank you…
This is my second try, i forgot to do the captcha code, so i don’t think the first one posted. Well, I just wanted to tell you that you choked me up with Laundry day. I also can picture my mothers hands, even though she is still with us. You are a good writer Colleen, keep going. I am going to go have a good cry now, lol. 🙂
Thanks so much for taking the time to write Kathy, I really appreciate your encouragement. Sometimes I wonder if anybody actually reads these things, so it’s always good to get feedback. On the crying? Kevin still doesn’t quite understand how a cry can be ‘good’…but women know right?