Thoughts while doing laundry.

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“I woke to the sound of rain.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Today I played outside with my son. Yes, finally the sun is back and it was so beautiful to sit outside and smell the warm grass and even more, smell my son’s hair after he had been running around for a while. This smell of his little sweat with a mix of sun is the best ever I think. The little things.

The other day I sat on the living room floor, surrounded by felt tons of laundry. All I did was ironing, folding, stacking, Ironing, folding and stacking. I thought about these little sweaters, T-shirts, pants I folded and little socks I matched. Little things. Little things for my son.

After I was done with all the laundry we went shopping. All stressed out because I had to get lunch ready – he was hungry, I was late. At the supermarket in one of these isles an older woman approached me and said, “This little guy is so handsome. How precious he is and smart. Hold onto these days my dear – they go so fast. They grow up so fast and this is the time you will miss the most. I am speaking out of experience.” So right there I started tearing up a bit. Right there in the middle of pasta and flour and sugar, just trying to hold it together while I watched this woman leave. She walked away slowly and turned around to give my son and I one last smile and wink.

While I finished shopping I thought about what this older woman told me. This little advice.  Over the past years and a half I felt like I have learned so much about life and about myself. I cannot say I have figured life out, however, sometimes when I have a lucky day it simply feels like I have flipped over a puzzle piece I did not even know was overturned, and find its place among the rest of the pieces that now make total sense. I can put this puzzle together slowly even though all the other pieces are all over the place, that this one piece, this one lone piece, it has a place. 

When I left the supermarket and my son looked at me and I noticed his dark blonde curly hair and his brown eyes that he squeezed tight whenever he looked in the sun I realized that I just have to take a moment and appreciate just every little bit of every little thing in that little tiny moment – like this puzzle piece that flipped over and slid right in.

I thought about this season. One day it is cold and one has to curl up inside next to a fireplace but then the next day is really warm. Everything changes constantly.  Thinking about tiny things, my son, and this house here that never seems truly quiet since we are here. My son is growing so fast, he is sprouting and learning – learning constantly. And one day, when Jean and I have done this job and he is all grown up, this old lady from the supermarket is right. I believe these are the days we will miss the most. His little innocence and this passion when he is trying to something new.

I folded laundry again today and thoughts came and went. Feelings, happy, sad, bittersweet. Bittersweet is usually how I describe it when I think of my son growing up. Usually I have one foot in the excitement of tomorrow but the second trailing behind just a bit longer, just lingering for a moment in the afterglow of everything we have done and been through so far. What we felt, experienced. All the laughters, all the tears. And what will happen in the future. How things will change.

I try to be present – in the moment here and now. I have to realize that I will never ever be in this moment again. It is entirely possible to find joy from the simplest of things. Whatever I do, I try to BE in this moment. I try to BE the moment.



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