Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Washateria woes,,,

After returning from my camping trip, I waited a couple days to visit my MIL as my little one had a runny nose and I didn't want to bring in any extra germs. Normally, she will soil her clothes, wait for them to dry and then hang them back up in her closet (where they'll 'contaminate' other clothes close by too.)

On this occasion, I see that someone has helped her out. Either that, or she hasn't been walking a lot and hasn't had the energy to put them back up. For her bathroom floor was covered in sheets, mattress pads, numerous pairs of pants, socks and underclothing. While I was happy that she hadn't placed them all back in her closet, it was nowhere near Friday (the day of the week where her facility washes the clothes.) Her bed sheets/pads were also wet and needed to be changed. That meant that I had to either use the facility's equipment and have it washing while I took her to her doctor appointment or just go buy another set. I chose the latter. I knew I wouldn't be in the mood to sit and wait after the ordeal of getting her in and out of the car. She is so afraid of falling. She's already gone to the hospital again after falling and hitting her head (since her last broken finger accident.) It's hard for her to remember what to do first when getting in or out of a car. I have to be a cheerleader of sorts. (First stand up, then swivel until your bottom is near the seat, then sit, then put your legs in.) I guess it is difficult when you can't really remember how to do it smoothly since it doesn't happen often and is stressful.

While gone taking her to the doctor, I stopped at a store and ran in to buy more sheets. After I returned, I changed her sheets and gathered many clothes to be washed. I tried not to gag. After filling four huge plastic garbage bags, I knew it'd take me a LONG time to do them at home and I didn't want to have that odor around that long. So, I decided to just go to the washateria instead.

I normally look forward to going to one (it's been a long time though.) I had forgotten about the convenience of those nice rolling baskets. I wish the lady who watched me move all those loads of clothes by hand (dropping some one the floor) would have reminded me of them when she first saw me doing that instead of when I had just finished. When I realized how easier I could have made the whole process, I gave her that 'duh, I feel stupid' look and laughed. Oh well. What a release of negative energy to laugh at something stupid I made me stop whining to myself about what I was doing and get me back on track.

And I did...I went back and thought of all the nice things my mother-in-law did for me over the years. Since I lost my parents as a young adult, I often relied on her for important information, conversation and motherly advice. We didn't often have the same opinion on much, but I have her the respect and courtesy while listening. I wished I had written down many stories of her childhood and of her family growing up. I had heard them so many times over the years that I thought I'd never forget them. I had no idea that at some point, I'd never hear them again.

Some recent pics of MIL.


(and with her purple shoes.)


Mike said...

It's hard to think that we were raised by the same parents sometimes. I have NOWHERE near the patience and determination that you have. You are a Godsend Robin. I just want you to know that. I'm sure MIL appreciates you in her own way.

K said...

what a marvelous DIL you are
How horrible old age is really really !
Your MIL is so lucky to have you

Rachel said...

Goes to show how truly fleeting this life is... and how easy it is to forget that things won't always be the same.

Thanks for the reminder not to take things for granted. I've been working on a scrapbook of family stories for our extended family. Something that my 79 year old grandmother and all 6 of her kids will love for Christmas. And I sure hope I've captured those priceless stories in time.

I always leave your blog with a sense of gratefulness - thank you for that.

Lisa said...

Robin you are a remarkable woman, and I'm grateful for you.

Thanks for your kind words for me and thanks for comforting me.

I am privileged.