Thank you

Thank you.

My alarm went off around 7 pm while is was in my room, working another sketch on my drafting table.  I got up from the little office chair and hit the off button.  My little chair squeaked louder than the alarm but that was to be expected asi had bought it at a local thrift store.  It served it's purpose though.

I met my Mom in the little hallway next to my room as she gathered all of the clothes into a large, off white cotton bag and set it down, while I reached for the detergent and fabric softener from the top shelf of the other closet.

My mom and I shared a small house in the rather grunge area of town with three felines. It was a duplex and it only had one bathroom a non functioning stove in the kitchen, and definitely no space for a washer and dryer.   

Mom was a small woman with deep, auburn hair cut in a sort of bob for simplicity's sake and she tended to dress casually as a rule.  In addition,  she also used her sewing skills to make homemade purses, bags and other items. "Why should I buy a designer handbag when I can make one that'll last longer?"

.Every Thursday, she and I would pile all of our laundry into the old, green 71 Impala with one cylinder that didn't fire and drove over to the local laundromat to get our clothes cleaned,  have a bite to eat and then get our clothes and go home.  This was our routine on Thursday evenings.

. .

My grandparents sort of worried about this since the laundromat was on a not so safe part of town as was our house and  often they lamented that Mom had chosen to live in the "crime infested" area.  They felt she would be better off if she would just  come over to their place for laundry but Mom always picked the local laundromat with it's huge washing machines, rolling baskets and plastic chairs by the windows that she frequently used for reading while we waited.

She often made the case that it was more convenient as well since we could do a weeks worth of laundry in one of the big machines and you couldn't do that in a small house unit

One day,  last week, there was a change. My grandparents came over to our place and talked to Mom and said that they had a surprise for her.  She was intrigued by this as I was.

Just after they had spoken, a man in cover alls came up the steps with a dolly that had a machine on it.  He tipped his grubby cap to everyone and went towards the kitchen.

Mom looked at her parents for moment as if she were about to ask a question

"It's a new washer and dryer set, honey!  It's stacked so it will make getting the laundry a lot easier and a lot more convenient for you.  You know how much we have worried about you going to that old laundromat!  Even Tom said he found a dead rat in the bathroom over there!"

This will help and it would sure make us feel better!"

Mom grinned briefly at them, her eyes a little vacant as she managed to force out the words, "thank you, that's very generous"

My grandad beamed, through his grayish white beard and said. " Don't worry about it.  It was on sale and what a deal too.  I'm happy!"

Mom looked at her parents once more and watched the man in silence as he installed the washer dryer stack unit.  It looked out of place in the kitchen. We didn't have a dryer vent in the home at all, so the vent hose was fished through the window.  My mind cringed at the whole set up, but since it was a gift, I couldn't say anything. 

After the installation was done, my mom stared at this new machine that was in the kitchen without saying a word, her eyes seemingly vacant and dead.

I had this feeling that something was terribly wrong.  My mom was usually fairly comfortable with discussing how she felt about things, but for that moment,.she seemed as if she were held in place by invisible chains.

After a few minutes, she left the kitchen and went into her bedroom,  the 3 cats following her inside.  After she closed the door, I heard her get onto the bed and turn on the little snake lamp near the headboard.  She often used that for reading.

I went to my room and turned on the music and resumed my sketching work.  I thought about drawing a picture of the stack unit and how out of place it looked in the kitchen but I decided to file that idea away for later.

It was about a couple of days later, that I woke up in the middle of the to the sound of my mom crying.  I got up out of my bed and left the room and found mom in the kitchen, staring at that stack unit again.

"Why!??!" , she cried allowed.  "Why did they have to do this?!?  They took away my Thursday!"

I stood there myself and waited.  The 3 cats rubbed around her legs purring all the way.  She picked up the smallest and put him on her shoulder and strokes his fur as her tears continued to fall.

"They always do this!  They still seem to think I can't take care of myself or you! I'm not five years old, you know!"

I didn't know what to do or say for the moment, but I nodded my head in agreement and I headed over the electric tea kettle which was already boiling and poured her a cup of chamomile tea.   We were out of kava or valerian, so chamomile would have to do tonight.

She took the cup and sat down on the stool in the little kitchen next to the non functioning stove that we often used in place of a table and sat there, elbows on the stove sipping the tea.

I wondered if she was thinking of telling my grandparents how she felt about the stack unit which definitely looked awkward in the small kitchen. It would be laughable except for the issues that this action revealed.

In one small move, my well meaning grandparents had suddenly destroyed our routine and for her, her whole world, as well as questioning her competence and made her feel guilty for even feeling insulted or hurt by their generosity.

Unfortunately all she could bring herself to tell them but "thank you".

We both sat in the kitchen that night having tea and considered the next step.