Pondering While Ironing

Let me begin with full blown truth. I iron for two occasions, Weddings and Funerals.

On this particular evening neither festivity is on the calendar. The hub’s been promoted, YEA! But part of the promotion includes his ability to forgo the uniform and wear business casual.

Well good for him...

Don’t get me wrong I LOVE a well dressed man, however the uniform component of the former position came with laundry and pressing service by hands other than my own.

Regardless, fast forward... I maximized discounts and scored at Kohl’s. The box arrived and after removal of five straight pins per shirt I find myself at the ironing board to press, steam, and scream, the creases out of seven new garments.

Typically a quick run through the washer and dryer would be my number one choice for wrinkle removal but I’m feeling domestic. I fill the iron with water and away we go.

My mind drifts and I begin to ponder... I thought of a funeral of a treasured lady . A woman I’d known my entire life. As she was eulogized I learned more of her than I did while she was living. My fault I realize now. I took what I was given lacking the maturity to look, listen, and ask for more.

Parts of her were closed, set aside, and had grown dusty. I wonder did she feel that way?

Compromised and small or had the season for such living simply past by as she grew in a different direction. Had she selected with care the fragments of self to place on the shelf until another time...there would always be time...

I was sad.

Our hourglass of knowing and learning from one another had expired. I found myself then, and countless times since, wishing for an opportunity to do better.

But those dreams belong to fiction writers.

The world is an In IT, Right Now, Present kind of place.

Reality is so often missed or passed over for something better. Even Social media provides an Interested -unless something better comes along- button.

Are we all living this way? More importantly, WHY are we?

UGH sleeves.... How do you properly press a sleeve? Should there be a crease running from shoulder to wrist?

I’m convinced this was a taught and tested this skill in Mrs. Dennish’s seventh grade Home Economics class. I’m more certain I got a ‘C’ ~ not for Carelessness but for Can’t give this the attention it deserves because really, unless someone is pledging lifetime unity or taking permanent leave of this world these are minutes of my life I’ll never recover.

Truth: This is why they make and sell knit clothing.

I have a stylish friend. I love how she looks, always so polished and pressed. I asked her once...how she constantly appears so tidy and together. She answered, “Do you own and Iron?”

Ouch, but not really. I do own a brand new, in box iron. It gets used on the bed with a beach towel to press clothing as I’ve said for weddings and funerals.

I’m not ashamed by this, it’s the truth.

But I upgraded along with the hub’s promotion. I bought an ironing board cover and everything. I leave it set up in the college boy's room but pride myself on getting the profession dress garments out of the dryer promptly and placing them on hangars to avoid hours ‘pondering’ over heat and steam.

But I digress... no surprise.

The funeral was for my beloved Grandmother. An impactful, virtual stranger I realized as the minister delivered her eulogy and I learned fascinating pieces of the woman she'd been.

Sadness expanded in my chest like an overturned gallon of crimson stain.

I loved the time we’d shared. I loved all she was in those minutes and know she was present for each second.

The woman I am now wants another stab to apply my grown up wisdom. To observe more. To notice deeper. To understand and learn the secret things that came before the segment life she shared with me.

What were her passions and interests as a child, as a young woman, a new wife, and mother?

I knew such a fragment of who she was.

My memories are fond, treasured, and are forever...

I’m sure she too, would love to know what I am becoming.

Life’s funny that way... UGH collars and shoulders are as tough as sleeves...

But I’ve finished and seven shirts hang in pristine fashion ready for their debut. I couldn’t send the hub off to the new position in creased cloth, could I?

My pondering has reminded me to be present when I have an opportunity to glean from a wiser traveler of the world. Our roads are shorter than we wish and time... well... there isn't always more time.

Good listening is a trait of a Goddess.

Ask and be ready to do more than hear.

Listen and grow from the sharing even if only a moment.

That’s what it’s all about after all.

Chat soon~ Laura