When the Laundry Piles Can Reach the Ceiling

This is a post for those days when the laundry is piled so high it could reach your ceiling. The days where it seems never ending and the repetitiveness of washing, drying, and folding moves from mundane to downright dreadful.

And to give credit where credit is due, I stole this from my friend's blog.

Even so seemingly non transcendent an act as putting clothing away can be a gesture of memory or of hope. We put laundry away in drawers and closets in the expectation that another day or season will come when we will need those things again. We pack away baby clothes in boxes in the hope that another child or grandchild will be added to the family or that an opportunity will come to pass things along to others who will use them. We save articles of clothing that belonged to a loved one who died, remembering the body that used to be clothed in these things and hoping for the day when our bodies and theirs will finally be truly, gloriously clothed.

~~~ Margaret Kim Peterson : Keeping House: The Litany of Everyday Life

All week I have been particularly mindful of this. It's great for every day of our lives, but this week I have especially needed it, as I am missing my little Anna Poo. She's gone for the week to spend time with her grandparents and while I'm enjoying having a break, I really miss her. Everything reminds me of her - be it not hearing her little voice in the morning whispering "Mommy, mmmoooommmy" to let me know she's awake. Be it an apple sitting on the counter that reminds me of how much I enjoy nights when Mark is working and her and I share apples dipped in caramel. Be it that Eli goes practically all day without crying from being bitten, pushed, having his hair pulled, or a toy stolen from him. I missed having her there to wave goodbye to Mark as he left for work tonight. I missed her telling me that Mark needed a spanking for being in the road. I miss her smile, her laugh, her hugs and kisses, and simply put, I just miss....her.

So this week as I've been doing laundry, I've done it with the anticipation of her coming home this weekend. I've changed her sheets and made her bed so it's ready for her. I've hung up the new clothes she got last weekend, washed her dirty clothes and hung them up, and am getting things ready for her return. Why? Because all of this means I'm hoping for another day with her. That I'm looking forward to the future and what it holds. So albeit it a mundane task, it's a task that has hope built into it, and for that, I am thankful.