Washing up
- suzanneculshaw
- Sep 17, 2023
- 1 min read
One thing I used to take for granted in the pre-Parkinson's years was the washing up. I didn't do it, hubbie did. That's just how it was. I'd cook, he'd wash up. He'd cook... he'd wash up. Our children have grown up never being asked to wash up because, well, their Dad just did it. I don't remember ever seeing piles of pots, pans and dishes in the kitchen. Dirty glasses and cups didn't just get left on the worktop.
Fast forward to now, and there's always something lurking in the kitchen waiting to be washed up. It's quite clearly become my job. And it's not that I hate it, in fact it can be quite enjoyable just losing myself in my thoughts, or gazing out of the kitchen window into the garden. Some days I even get a real sense of achievement as I plan my approach - glasses first, wipe any excess off the plates, soak the pans - and I often praise myself for not wasting too much water.
But today I'm just a bit sad. And incredibly grateful to have a husband who for more than two decades just did our washing up, no questions asked.
For the record, "washing up" could easily be replaced by shopping, cleaning, clothes washing, sorting the paperwork, getting the kids to school, servicing the car... no wonder I'm sad, and grateful.
I was "punished" as a child with washing dishes. Strange enough, in Romania, in my parents' way of living, the boys had nothing to do in the kitchen, no cooking, for sure! Later on, on my own I overcame the awkardness of doing dishes and found a sort of peacefullness in doing it. As any coffee smell does remind me of my Grandma (a 3 to 5 years old memory...), doing dishes washes away the childhood "punishments" of all sorts... smelling coffee and sipping it, sometimes, is a connection-of-a-special-kind with my Grandma, as it is washing dishes today, a connection to parents that may be no longer, but they are... reengaging with all those life experiences that matter, that send…
I feel very moved by your writing. I admire the fact that that in this beautiful self reflection you can lean into the loss you feel that opens the door to a deep gratitude you might never have felt.