November 28, 2006
Twelve days ago Susan’s mother’s brain was irradiated by something called a Cyberknife. As best I can tell, it is something like a robot wielding a Star Wars “lightsaber.” This Cyber-bot used its invisible knife to stab two tumors inside Earline’s skull until they were dead. She’s home now, but has gone, suddenly, from being Grandma, always about making beds and pies, to an old woman who needs help getting off the toilet.
All of Susan’s children (I’ve nobly taken her word they’re mine) are either in college, or just out. All are “on their own”; more or less. This fall was our first as empty nesters. Riggs is off to grad school in Philadelphia, Stephan in Germany, and Will is working 80 miles west in Junction City; leaving only Pearson, still in school, down the street, but in his own house. Our freedom lasted one month.
She went to see her parents in Oklahoma City for Labor Day, and has not come back. That was 41 days ago. And she can’t; not yet. Earline is good only for about an hour at a time. Lindell, who had a stroke in 1994 is only slightly aware Earline is out of commission. Coming up for air between Judge Judy and re-runs of "Seinfeld," just long enough to eat dinner, he’s begun, on occasion, calling Susan, “Mama.” She has a hard time not becoming angry.
Last night, having finally run out of underwear and socks, I broke down and did laundry. I’m not dirty, I keep a neat house, washing dishes and throwing my clothes into the hamper, but I had not really faced up to the laundry. Of course I can do laundry. While I was at it I changed the sheets. A month on the same sheets had left them a bit limp. Sheets aren’t like towels. I only use a towel after I’ve showered, and am clean. So by definition, a wet towel is clean; it never got dirty. But sheets, well I don’t always go to bed as clean as I am after I shower, so, I guess sheets need changing.
And as I stood in the laundry room folding a king size top sheet, it occurred that though Susan had taught me the proper way of sheet folding, it hadn’t taken. I simply could not properly fold a sheet. Though my sheets were effectively folded, and would fit onto the shelf, they were no artistic success. This was a sheet that would have to be used soon; for if discovered in this disgraceful condition it will need refolding. That is if she gets off the flypaper anytime soon.
Comments
patmcq (anonymous) says...
A couple of suggestions:
Draw on your inner-college student: Keep the sheet from hitting the closet. Strip the bed, wash, make the bed. No folding involved.
Draw on your inner-Boy Scout: That sheet is really just a flag without stars and stripes waiting to be folded into an official triangle. Grab the guy across the street (warning: he was a Cub Scout reject) to hold the other end of the sheet, and start folding. The advantages to this approach: a triangle stores easily; it doubles as a toss pillow; it makes a great in-house football.
Draw on your inner-venter: If your problem is that you have a fitted sheet to fold, fold and vent simultaneously.
1. Name each corner of the fitted sheet for a frustration du jour. Then, stick your right middle finger--yep, that one--in the air. You're going to impale (metaphorically, of course) your four frustrations while folding the sheet.
2. With the front of the sheet facing you, stick that right finger inside a corner of the sheet. (Your finger will be touching the front side of the sheet.)
3. Take a corner that you are holding in your left hand and put it on top of the first corner that is on your right finger. This fold will be bring the wrong sides of the sheet together.
4. Pick up the third corner and bring it to that right finger--front sides will be together.
5. Bring the last corner on top of the right finger.
Now you'll notice that you've created a rectangle, with the sides of the sheet flipping over the rectangle. From here, you can easily fold the sheet into something that is closet-acceptable. And, hopefully, you feel a bit better about your frustrations in the process.
January 8, 2007 at 8:05 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
mm56 (anonymous) says...
Folging sheets? - I didn't know people folded their sheets. That is an interesting concept (!) But seriously, I get it that your frustration runs deeper than just the sheets. What a great way to write about it. Hope your family bounces back.
February 13, 2007 at 11:50 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
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