She’s baaaack! One Sunday morning only, due to ‘scheduling’.
AND! ‘Don’t stop believing’ is on the radio.
All is right with this Sunday morning.
I made it abundantly clear last week to the manager that I missed my Laundry Lady. (She has a name, I choose not to use it here for the sake of her anonymity, not out of disrespect).
I hadn’t seen her in weeks! Although, to be fair, one of those weeks was due to me not attending Laundry Day.
Me: Is ____ ok?
Manager: Yeah! We’re down a person and ____ prefers to come in later.
Me: But … It’s my routine. I miss her.
Manager: (Laughs) You know what? I’m going to tell her that, because I don’t really do mornings.
I felt a little bad this morning when I saw who was opening. Like I had something to do with her schedule.
But, no, it just so happens something hung the manager up here until after midnight.
I guess I don’t have the pull I thought I did around here. (Joke).
I’m looking around and noticing the gender ratio … There’s 5 men vs one woman. That woman being me.
The funny thing I’ve noticed about guys doing laundry is … They hover.
They stand staring at the their chosen machines – guarding them?
It cracks me up.
A wash cycle takes half an hour, and the dryers run in 10 minute increments. Take a seat guys! The rainbow umbrella table is available!
So, I’m over in my nook and Laundry Lady just came over for a chat. (I think she might have missed me a little bit too.)
Asked me if I’d ever seen Twilight.
(She had just watched all the movies).
Have I seen Twilight? HA!
I gobbled up those pages faster than a pigeon with a French fry! Then saw the movies.
Speaking of pigeons.
It was my mum’s birthday this past week. We celebrated yesterday with a ‘mum and me’ day.
Went down to the river, ok, the casinos along the river, and had a wonderful lunch at Bubba Gump’s.
Here’s my mum’s plate with a few friends.
(SUBTITLES: What my mum says at the end is: “OK, that’s it. No, I’m sorry, but you’re just throwing it at me here.”)
Funny thing was, an employee came over after noticing the flock of feeders and said, “We ask you don’t feed the birds.”
My mum replied, “I’m not feeding them, they’re helping themselves.”
It was a great day.
And now I’m home and Sunday still feels perfectly right.
Hope yours does too!
Last night I dreamed my mother was pregnant. The shock that she was carrying a child at her age gave way to wonder. I felt a sense of peace and safety and excitement.
I was in the hospital with her, for a check up or perhaps because the time was close to meet the little one?
I looked at her swollen belly and then into her eyes. She was smiling in a tired yet calm way, and had some bad news.
The baby wasn’t going to make it.
It wasn’t long after that ‘scene’ when we were in a gymnasium, and she was finalizing plans with a score keeper to try again. I didn’t even question why he would be the father. It just seemed like a business transaction.
I noticed my mom online this morning and told her: “I dreamed you were pregnant.” She responded “We weren’t going to tell anyone just yet.”
That made me smile.
I am fortunate to have a mother with a sense of humor.
I researched the symbology of seeing someone pregnant. It said: “To dream someone else is pregnant indicates that you are experiencing a closer connection to this person.”
So what did they say it meant to lose the baby?
“Suggests that some idea or plan did not go as expected. The dream may also serve as a warning against your continued course of action. You need to alter your path or risk losing something of significance and value to you.”
I have my own theory.
I’m ashamed to admit, I’ve had some resentment lately.
Nicholas returned from England and the next step was to enroll in college and look for his first job.
I stand by my theory that no one can want anything FOR you. While you can suggest, encourage and support, you can’t want someone into doing something.
Of course I’ve discussed school with Nic. But in my opinion, unless it’s something he wants for himself, he won’t put in the work.
I planted seeds and offered ideas and hoped to see him decide to take that path on his own. For him to make the effort to look into how to make it happen.
And he has.
Yesterday he went to the college and in the evening, we pushed “Submit” on his student aid application.
My resentment comes from the fact that every conversation I’ve had with my mother lately includes her telling me what Nic has to do.
As if I’ve been dropping the ball on the whole ‘raising your child’ thing.
“He needs to go speak to a counselor at the college.” “He needs to apply for jobs.”
I think a part of me feels like she doesn’t trust my mothering.
I felt talked down to, like a little girl being given directions because she couldn’t figure it out on her own.
And the feeling returned that Nicholas is not mine, but hers.
I sat in that feeling and it wasn’t comfortable.
So I shifted my thoughts and my position.
Nicholas isn’t mine. He does not belong to anyone. “God doesn’t have grandchildren” came to mind.
I considered that I’m fortunate to have others love and care about my son. The directions come from a well intended place.
I have to take myself and my pride out of the equation – because it’s not about me.
I don’t know what it’s like to be a grandmother. I can only imagine. I imagine it’s indescribably amazing.
The love I have for my son is the most honest and pure and complete love I’ve known. So to one day, perhaps, hold his child? My eyes are watering just imagining it.
And I’ll want the best for his son or daughter. And if I’m fortunate enough to be there and to know my grandchild – I’m sure I’ll offer Nic advice.
But I trust the person that he is – even now. I know his values and his heart. I know that he will be an incredible father one day.