Saturday, January 15, 2011

Washing Dishes

Each morning, I take a few minutes to do the dishes left over from midnight snacking. The baby is usually content to sit in her chair and eat some puffs. I do not like doing dishes but I like the satisfaction of watching them disappear from the counter, neatly aligned in the dishwasher. In the morning, I do not feel the hectic rush to load up the dishes as fast as possible. There are not other little mouths to feed, band-aids to apply, paints to set up. It is just me, the cat and the baby. And St. Jude.

On the counter by the coffee maker, a five day candle flickers, casting a watery reflection on the white surface upon which it rests. Behind the candle, tucked up on a tiny ridge is a St. Jude card. We inherited this tradition from my mother-in-law. Each time I see the card, there amongst the clutter of our life, I am reminded to offer up a prayer. A prayer about our future. An offering of hope that one of us or both of us will be accepted into graduate school. It is an act of letting go when I utter those little prayers. I have no control of my application at this point in the process. Yet I spend much of my day fretting with worry. But now this moment, quiet and simple, no drama, allows me to put that worry away. To offer up to something higher than myself. It is no longer my worry. For a moment, I can breath and recenter myself holding onto a bride between heaven and earth.

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