What I wouldn’t give to flip on the switch of fluorescent light and breathe in the scent of clean clothes from that little laundry room, just one more time.
What I wouldn’t give to see the surprise on Dad’s face as I call his name from the door of the condo and find him eating oatmeal and reading the paper at the little table by the window with the little chairs only little people could possibly sit comfortably on even with the cushions my mom made, just one more time.
What I wouldn’t give to hear the creak of the lid as I open the washer in that little laundry room kitty corner to the kitchen and find the few things he would wear over the course of a week, just one more time…
“What’s in the washing machine, Debbie?” Dad is standing in the doorway, hands in pant’s pockets. There’s plenty of room for his hands because everything else seems to be shrinking at an alarming rate.
“Your dirty clothes, Dad,” I say not trying to sound snarky.
“Some I wash in cold water. They shrink.”
I know he has a very exact way of doing things. I don’t mess with that. Sometimes my help is not helpful. I learn to make sure he knows he is in control of the things he has control over in life. Like his laundry. I pull all the clothes out and we separate them, leaving the non-shrinkables in the washer.
“Dad, why don’t you just wash all these clothes in cold water?”
“I do.”
“Why did we separate them then?”
“I don’t know.”
I throw them all back in. “Well, that was fun!”
He snickers. I love his snicker.
_________
Do you find yourself in a caregiving season? Unexpected fun was everywhere during those last years I had with Dad. I always felt like the time we were sharing would be our last. He was so frail but that went on for five years and it changed my attitude. What could have felt like a burden became my great joy as I wrote and shared the stories of our time together. I received news this morning that one of my articles is going to be published in Content Magazine~finding God in your caregiving season.
This particular story was originally a Facebook post from February 28, 2015, reposted on my blog March 3, 2018 and expanded a little here. Some things never die. I wonder if there are washing machines in heaven…
Feature photo: Sufyan, Unsplash
It was one year ago today that we lost our daughter to breast cancer. Your post touched me.
Oh, Don, I am so, so sorry. I watched my parents grieve my brother and can’t imagine anything worse than the loss of one’s child, which makes Hebrews 6:19 all the more powerful:
“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf.”
I imagine my brother and your daughter have already become acquainted. ❤️
Last night my wife woke me up about 2:00 PM because she was confused. It’s amazing how God can touch your heart because I just melted when I heard her voice speaking to me in the dark. Our time together is precious and God’s grace covers it all. Hard to put into words. Gifts of God’s grace. Blessings, Deb.
Bruce, aww, your words are so tender and so true. He offers us supernatural peace and joy that none of us can put into words. (But we sure try, don’t we?) 😉❤️🥰
Blessings back!
Deb
Our daughter was Deborah (Debi). She moved back home for us to care for her after her diagnosis. We had 19 months to prepare, but I still wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The Lord has taken away her pain, and she is on to the next thing in his plan. Thank you.
Aww, same names. I spelled mine like your daughter did (Debi) in high school. It still shows up now and then with old friends. Yes, He surely has taken away all her pain.❤️My mom died of breast cancer and one thing I can say is I was so relieved when she had no more pain!
It’s such a privilege to share this special Memorial Day of your daughter’s passing with you, Don. Thank you so much. We can’t begin to imagine what awaits us. Sending a big hug.
Deb
Thank you.
Deb, this touched my heart. I have tears of love over your precious words and memories. I’m so glad it will be published. As my parents have aged, the moments are more precious. Thank you for sharing this. It’s so precious to me. 💕🥰🙏🏻🥺
I’m sorry for your loss, sir.
Thank you, Karla.
You’re welcome, Don. 🙏🏻
Karla, it touches my heart that your heart was touched. 😊 It’s a wonderful thing to live in the moment and realize how precious it is. Thank you for sharing some of those moments with me. That’s precious! ❤️🥰
I totally relate to your story Deb. The little things during my caregiving season were both a blessing and a struggle but they are the precious moments that I am most thankful for. The encouragement of sharing our simple stories of caregiving is exactly why I created Content Magazine and I am excited to share your story in the Spring edition, releasing April 1st. http://www.contentmagazine.online
Rayna, it means so much to connect with someone who cherishes these moments we have with our loved ones. It can be so easy to overlook in the “busy” of day to day. Thank you for the work you are doing to bring attention to the value of each precious day we have with our loved ones. We may not be able to hold them (or them us) tomorrow. ♥️♥️ I don’t say that to be morbid, but you already know that!
Thank you,
Deb
You’re welcome, Deb. Thank you, again. It’s so wonderful to know you. ❤️💕🙏
You too, Karla. 🙏🥰❤️
I miss my dad’s snicker too. Great post.