It’s always surprising to me when my old 286 grinds and squeaks and brings up memories I haven’t given a single though to in forever. And, then, suddenly, there it/they is, as crystal clear as a blue summer sky. This happened just now as I was putting the second load of laundry into the washer.
The memory of my mom doing laundry popped into my head. Actually, it was memories. We lived in Idaho then and I was under the age of eight. My mom used two zinc washtubs and a washboard to do the laundry every week. I don’t remember clearly, but I think this entailed boiling water on the stove and adding it to the tubs.
I also remember some kind of device my mom used when she washed the lace/sheer curtains. This was pieces of wood that would interlock. The wood had what looked to me like needles all along the edge. Mom would fit the edge of the curtains over the needles, and once dry, they were without wrinkles. I’d seriously like to know what this device was called, so if anyone has that information, please share.
Of course, there was no dryer for the wet clothes, so they were hung on a clothesline with clothespins. I don’t remember what she did in the wintertime when the snow was higher than my head, but I’m sure we didn’t go all winter without clean clothes. Funny how parts of some memories are totally missing.
Once we moved to Seattle, mom got a wringer washer. It was a Maytag and there were hoses that went from the sink to the washer to fill up the tub. I don’t remember if the clothes went in first or after the water was added. I just know the washer left the corner of the kitchen and practically filled the door to the sink area. After the washer had sloshed for a while, mom would feed the clothes through the two rollers that were above the tub. These rollers pressed most of the water out of the clothes. They weren’t dry by any means, but they weren’t dripping either.
There was a shed attached to the house that was mostly used for storing the lawnmower and other garden stuff. Clotheslines were strung in this shed and that’s where the clothes were hung to dry. In the winter, the clothes froze and were stiff as a board. I cannot remember if freezing them dried them or not. What a chore laundry had to be for my mom for the first thirty or forty years of her life.
Mom did get a brand new washer and dryer when they moved from Seattle. I was even luckier because there was a laundry room at my first apartment; and when John and I moved to our first house, there was a washer and dryer there as well. The landlord even let us take them to our new home when we purchased our first and only home.
The whole point of this exercise is, I guess, my inner brain talking to moi when I was lamenting having to do the laundry. I mean, one load is already in the dryer and another in the washer. That will leave only two more loads to go, and I’ll be done with the laundry for the week in a couple of hours. Fresh sheets on the bed, fresh towels in the bathroom, fresh undies in the drawer, fresh pants and tops in the closet.
Looking back at how laundry progressed for my mom, I really can’t/shouldn’t complain about the few hours I spend doing laundry. The mental photos my brain brought to the forefront weren’t of a woman who was, like me this morning, feeling put-upon or pissed about this chore. I remember a woman who had a smile for me, who would take time to make me lunch, give me a hug or offer words of praise or encouragement for my piddly attempts to be helpful.
Funny how memories like this rise up from time to time and bring with them a warmth and appreciation for what came before. Today’s memories also brought a life lesson…be grateful for what you have now and be thankful for those memories of what had to be a much more difficult time for mom. Even more, I should be grateful my life never incurred the difficulties my mom had to deal with. And yet, in my memories, she did so with a smile and without complaining.