Laundry

Just now I folded the towels still warm from the dryer, and I slipped the cold-weather socks on my feet. Felt good.

I always think of my mother when I fold bath towels (and pillow cases) because she taught me how to do it when I was a little girl. I don't know how old I was--maybe close to 20--when I learned that her way was not the only way, not THE only right way, a shocking revelation. And I'm not kidding. I put a lot of stock in whatever my mother said and did. She was very smart.

I still fold pillow cases as she taught me. I refuse to do them any other way. But the big towels fit in my cupboard better if I fold them another way, not hers. I suppose that's why she folded them as she did--so they would fit in her cupboard.

But here's the thing. It's hard for me to do it. Something in me says I should be folding them the way my mother showed me.

When I fold bedding, I think of my friend (suffering now from dementia or Alzheimer's, whichever). Many years ago, she taught me her way of folding fitted sheets. That's how I do it to this day, and I always think of her. Often I wish she were here with me, to help me do it just right.

Besides, I have never liked folding laundry alone. I think it is best done with a friend or family member. Don't you?

The other day as I folded my sheets--alone, of course--I wondered if my friend remembers how to fold sheets at all.

Possibly.
Possibly not.
I do wonder.